Forest
by sivvussa
Summary: Daine returns to a war ravaged Tortall from slavery in Carthak, but Jonathan refuses her citizenship. Meanwhile, the divine war with Chaos begins. Set at time of EM to ROTG. D/N. SEQUEL TO DESERT, COMPLETE, SEQUEL IS UP
1. Disclaimers and Summary of Prequel

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A Fanfiction based on the "Immortals" series by Tamora Pierce

By Sivvus

This story is the sequel to "Desert". It should be able to stand alone, but it'll probably make more sense if you have read the prequel. :)

If you can't be bothered, here is a summary. It's rather long and complicated.

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ "DESERT BUT YOU'RE PLANNING TO, DO NOT READ THIS AS IT CONTAINS SPOILERS!

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SPOILERS

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SPOILERS

The stories are set in the same timeline as _The Immortals_, although the majority of Desert happens when Daine is seventeen. Rather than recovering her sanity when her village hunts her, she is captured by a slave trader named Kavan, who is searching for gifted children to sell to Emperor Ozorne. He taunts her out of the "madness", and tells Daine that he will kill Cloud if she does not obey him.

Knowing that Daine believes the wolf pack will save her, Kavan kills the wolf cubs to scare them away. Daine doesn't know this, believing the People have betrayed and abandoned her, and submits to slavery. Cloud knows that the cubs were killed, but does not tell Daine- at first out of pity, but eventually because she knows Daine will not believe her.

Daine is taken with two other gifted slaves- an older girl called Katryn, and a young boy called Danny- to Carthak, where the three are trained as spies and assassins. Katryn is a powerful mage, relying on her ears and her ability to break shields. She is very secretive about her motives and her past. She is scornful of Daine, believing her to be "weak"- however, she begins to rely on Daine to help her with her blindness. Daine also cares for Danny, who was kidnapped from his family because he can see magic. The three form a family, if not a friendship.

During the slave's training, Tortall is struggling. The immortals run through the land, killing thousands. The country suffers a famine as the villagers die or cower in forts. Seeing its weakness, the lady of Dunlath and the Scanran lords invade the country. Starving and near-defeated, Tortall calls a temporary truce while it sends ambassadors to Carthak to ask for help.

Numair and Alanna travel to Carthak. Numair expects to be executed on his arrival, as a legitimate term of the truce. However, Ozorne welcomes the ambassadors and presents them with a gift- three young slaves to serve them during their stay.

Alanna is openly cynical about why Ozorne would act like this, and who the slaves are. Her suspicions are heightened when Numair (in hawk shape) is attacked by a second shape-shifter as he tries to contact Lindhall at the university. Numair fights off the attack and the shape-shifter falls from the sky. He lands and finds Daine, hurt and afraid, who warns him that he is in danger. She doesn't say from what, and after Alanna heals her, spins a story to make the threat seem less important.

Alanna knows she is lying, and finds Katryn spying on them with her gift soon after. She tries to convince Numair that all three slaves are dangerous, but he continues to try to talk to them. Daine is punished by Ozorne for letting Alanna heal her, and asks Cloud for advice.

Cloud is jealous that Daine spends more time with Danny than with her, and bitter that she is being treated more like a "pretty pony" than as a person. She refuses to speak to Daine.

Both ambassadors are angry at the irrational demands the emperor has produced for the truce. They realise that the emperor has no intention of helping Tortall. Alanna is shocked out of her fury when Danny asks her what the "pretty magic" is that she has around her neck. Realising the boy can see the Ember Stone through her shirt, she lets him see it. However, Katryn appears and drags Danny away before he can ask any more questions.

The next morning, Daine finds Katryn searching through Alanna's belongings for the stone, which she hid when she realised Danny could see it. Daine is dubious about stealing it, but Katryn tells her that after the "peace talks" of the day, Alanna wouldn't remember the ember stone at all. As a failsafe, Katryn makes a nectarine appear to be the stone, and takes the real ember to Ozorne.

Ozorne believes the stone to be the Dominion Jewel. He tells Katryn that Numair and Alanna had attacked him during the peace talks, and that they should be killed as traitors. He tells Katryn how to kill them so the other countries will believe the attack actually happened.

Daine overhears the meeting, and is appalled. She tries to ask Cloud's advice, but once again the pony is elusive. Returning from the stables, she runs into Numair. She tells him that she is an assassin, and that she is supposed to kill him. Numair takes her to talk to Alanna.

Alanna refuses to believe Daine when she outlines the plan, until Daine points out the spelled nectarine she is wearing. Amazed to find that her most prized possession is a fruit, she begins to believe Daine. Daine outlines Ozorne's plan. Later that night, when she is heading back to her room, Daine is confronted by Katryn. Katryn says that Daine is a traitor, and tries to kill her, killing Danny first because he tries to follow Daine.

Daine runs away, but is backed into a corner. Katryn, half consumed by the fire of her gift, tells Daine how she was blinded by her family because she killed someone with her gift. Bitter at Daine's ability to make friends, she relishes the thought of doing the same to her.

Before she can do so, Numair appears. He had seen the encounter and realised Katryn knew the Tortallans plan to escape, and had left to warn Alanna. When he returned, he found the corpse of Danny and trailed the two girls. Katryn scoffs at him as he casts shields to protect himself and Daine from her magic, and disbelieves him when he says he doesn't need to attack her- that she's being burned alive by her gift. Katryn begins charging a spell with the last of her life force to kill him, when she hears Daine pleading with her not to kill herself. She hesitates, and the spell slips from her hands and kills her.

Numair and Daine find Alanna outside Ozorne's bedchamber, where Alanna had jut cast a sleep spell on the guards. The three enter the room and confront the emperor, only to find that he has set an ambush for them. As they fight off the attackers, Ozorne tries to kill them with the ember stone. He is surprised it doesn't work, and concentrates on it. As his shields fail, Daine leaps on him in wolf-form and tears his throat out. She leads the way to the docks.

When they arrive, a Tortallan sailor sees Daine and is terrified. Hurt, and afraid that once again she will be outcast, Daine runs away. Numair follows her, and finds her preparing to ride out into the desert-where she will surely die. She tells him that she deserves to die, and she is afraid of people hating her like her village did.

Numair tells her she is worth saving, otherwise he wouldn't have followed her. He tells her that he and Alanna owe her their lives, and they wouldn't let her be an outcast. Comforted, Daine agrees to return with them to Tortall…


	2. Chapter 1: Reflections

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Chapter One: Reflections

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Jonathan of Conte, king of the failing kingdom of Tortall, ran a hand through his black hair and glared at the reports in front of him.

"Damn it all to the black god's realm!" He spat bitterly, willing the figures to change. There was a rustle as his companion picked up the papers and studied them.

"Damning is not going to change them, sadly." The woman sorted through the pile of reports on the desk and found a rough sheet of figures. Carefully, she wrote a number at the bottom of the page, made a calculation, and ringed the answer. "If we don't receive help soon, the whole country will starve this winter."

"How did this happen?" Jon stood up, frustrated, and paced the room, glaring at a map that had been hastily attached to the wall. Elegant blues and greens shaded the borders of several countries, all crushed together on one island. Separate islands kept their distance- the red-shaded Yamani Isles and the violently yellow Carthaki lands protected by broad blue strips of sea. Jonathan scowled and jabbed a finger at one of the countries.

"First Fief Dunlath attacks us, then Scanra. They send their armies into our country and leave their people to be slaughtered by the immortals, but they survive. We are peaceful, we protect our people, and yet we are the ones who are dying!" He whirled and glared at his wife. "It's not fair!"

"Stop it, Jon, you sound like a child." The woman replied, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. His Imperial Majesty gaped for a second, then spun round to the map again and glared at the yellow empire.

"Carthak promised us an alliance, and then they throw it all away because Alanna insulted them? What sort of a reason is that? If _I _stopped being reasonable every time Alanna insulted me, I'd…I'd…"

"You'd probably be exactly the same as you are now." Responded Thayet absently, examining a document. "Besides, the emperor claims in this that Alanna attacked him- threatened his life. It's odd…"

Jonathan jabbed the map so hard his finger tore through, leaving a hole in the middle of Galla. "What's odd? We knew she was in a bad mood when we sent her…"

"No… not that. When did we receive this? Yesterday morning? Yet it claims that it happened last Thursday."

Jon tore his gaze from the map and looked at the letter, a frown-line creasing his forehead. "That makes no sense… there's no way a letter could arrive here in under a week. Maybe they forgot what date it was?"

"But then, surely they would have dated it for the week before? How many clerks do you know who'd say… um… "_A mistake was made on the date: we forgot it wasn't two weeks in the future_"?" She tapped the letter thoughtfully with a fingernail and put it down, her beautiful white skin paler than usual. "No, it makes no sense. It's like they knew what was going to happen, and decided to tell us a week in advance."

Jon had picked up the letter thoughtfully and was scanning the dated, but unreadable, wax seal when there was a hesitant knock on the door. A young page hesitated, bowed, and turned to face the king.

"Your majesty," he said, trembling, "There's a ship pulling into the harbour."

"A ship?" Thayet asked from the window, peering out of the panes in a dignified manner. The page nodded, gulped, and bowed again.

"Yes, your majesty. We're not sure who it is- all the sails are down and there's some kind of enchantment…" he swallowed and bowed a third time, "Begging your pardon."

Jonathan smiled at him, disguising his own worry over the boy's. "Don't be afraid of us… Rupert, isn't it? Save your fear for your enemies… and for Alanna, when she gets back." He muttered under his breath. Thayet grinned at him from the window and pointed at the tiny boat in the distance.

"Better start shaking now, Jon- it's Alanna, and yes, I do believe she's been sea-sick again. She's going to be _so angry _at whoever made her get on a boat… oops, I didn't scare you, did I?" She smiled beautifully and offered the king her arm. "Shall we go and meet them, my lord?"

"After you, my lady." the king replied.

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Daine leaned over the rail, watching as the ship shimmered in the glistening water. Cloud had been terrified when she noticed that the boat did not look any more substantial than the sea, but Daine thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The spell blended the ship into the sea so well it was like being a fish, she thought.

When the ship had first left Carthak, she hadn't cared what it looked like. Her "family" had been taken from her in one night by the order of a man she had trusted completely for years, and her whole world seemed to be in shreds. For most of the first week of travel she had stayed in her tiny cabin with the door locked, hardly even eating, and had cried bitterly. Every time she slept she could see the faces of people who had died in front of her- Katryn, Danny, even the emperor, and her mother. She would wake up screaming and shaking, convinced that they were reaching out to her, blaming her for their deaths.

Numair had slept solidly for the first four days, exhausted by the intense magical battles he had fought in Carthak. On the fifth day, he found out where Daine was hiding, and brought her onto the deck of the ship. By then, the ship was in the middle of the ocean, having sailed around the coast to avoid the Carthaki fleet.

The sky was a mass of brilliant reds, pinks, blues and purples, which reflected on the sea until it seemed like the boat was floating on a rainbow. For the first time in days, Daine wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the sunset.

"There is a legend, where I come from," Numair said quietly, watching the sky, "That the sky spirits and the water-dwellers are always competing with one another. That is why the sea always copies the sky. The sea tries to reach the sky by making waves, and the sky rains down on the sea. But at sunset, when the water is calm, they can reach each other on the horizon. That's the only time they talk to one another."

"That's a stupid story." Croaked the girl, surprised at how rough her voice sounded, and realizing she hadn't used it for days. Numair smiled at her and looked back at the darkening sky.

"Maybe so. I don't think it's meant to be taken literally." He waved a hand at the horizon. "But all stories have to start somewhere. I don't think the gods would make something this beautiful, if they weren't trying to tell us something." He glanced sidelong at the girl. "When my grandfather died, I used to think he'd gone to be a sky spirit- he was always so cheerful that I couldn't imagine him in the dark realms. I used to talk to him every time there was a sunset, so he wouldn't forget me."

"My mam used to say something like that…" Daine's voice tailed off as she stared into the sky. The colours had deepened into reddish browns and yellows. For a moment, looking at the gathering clouds, she thought she saw a face looking down on her and smiling sadly. Its beautiful features shifted, becoming childish, then more severe.

"Mam… Katryn… Danny…" The girl whispered, staring at the three shifting faces, only vaguely aware that Numair had left her alone, "I haven't forgotten you, I swear… I love you, mam… Danny, I miss you every day. Take care of yourself. Katryn…" She swallowed and turned her face away as the wind ripped the clouds to shreds. "…goodbye."

After that day, the nightmares had started to fade away. Numair wouldn't let her stay in her cabin like she had been, and introduced her to the entire crew. One, whom she was particularly worried about meeting, surprised her especially. As soon as he saw her, he whisked his cap from his head and bowed deeply.

"I just want to say, miss, that if it weren't fer you, we would'a never gotten out of that sandy place alive." He leaned forward and clapped her shoulder heartily. "That was some neat trick you pulled with that wolf magic, wasn't it?"

"W…was it?" Daine stumbled, surprised, "I thought I scared you. I'm sorry…"

"Sorry!" The sailor grinned heartily, revealing a missing tooth, "Never heard of such a neat disguise in all my days! 'Ere," he added, leaning towards her confidentially, "I don't suppose you could teach me to do that, miss? Only I got a brother, and it'd be a great surprise fer him!"

"I bet." Daine smiled suddenly, but found herself being introduced to the next sailor before she could reply.

"See?" Numair muttered as they ate a lunch of bread and cheese on the deck later that day, "They're terrified of you!" Daine smiled and said nothing.

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A shadow fell over the side and suddenly the "water" boat became dull. Disappointed, Daine pulled herself back off the rail and looked up. She smiled at the very tall man who was currently blocking out the sun.

"We're nearly there." Numair said, nodding at the approaching port. "Are you alright?"

Daine nodded, looking back at the expanse of water they had crossed, almost invisibly thanks to the reflective spell. "It feels like a whole section of my life was lived for me and now it's over… I can be myself again. I won't forget what happened- I can't- but I know it couldn't have happened any differently than it did."

Numair nodded thoughtfully and tugged at his nose, "That reminds me- do you have any idea how to get that collar off?"

Daine blinked, surprised, and felt at the thick metal band that encircled her throat. "You know, I completely forgot about it!" She frowned. "Normally, there would be a key, or you'd kill the person who fixed it…that's what some of the Banjiku did. But this was spelled by Kavan as well as Ozorne. He must still be alive, or something."

"Who's Ka-" Numair started, then interrupted himself. Alanna was climbing up onto the deck, looking decidedly unhappy.

"Whose bright idea was it to go to Carthak, anyway?" She asked, lurching across the moving deck.

"Jon's." Replied the mage, absently. Alanna cracked her knuckles loudly and glared at the shore.

"Right."

"Be nice." Warned Numair.

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A/N: Well, that's the scene set. It's rather Jon/Thayet heavy at the moment, but most of the story is going to be D/N. So if you don't like J/T, don't worry, they're not major characters. :)


	3. Chapter 2: Past Judgement

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Chapter 2: Past Judgement

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As the boat pulled into the dock, the spell that covered it flickered and died away. Surprised, Daine looked around to see Numair meditating on the deck, pulling trails of magic into himself. She shivered and looked back at the dock, seeing the remains of the first snow of winter turned to slush on the stone paving. After years in Carthak, she'd forgotten how gods-blessed cold it was possible for the weather to get.

"Miss!" called a voice. She turned around to see the enthusiastic sailor she had met before. He winked at her and handed her a parcel. "We all took turns makin' in on our off-shifts. Figured you might need it." He coughed and looked at the ground. "It's kinda like our way of sayin' thanks. Now, I gotta go reel this whale in!"

Abruptly, he grabbed the mooring rope and swung over the edge of the ship. Daine gasped and ran after him, convinced he'd have fallen or broken his neck, when she saw he had climbed down the edge and was typing the rope to a mooring post. She leaned on the rail, and unwrapped the parcel.

A swath of material fell out, nearly falling onto the desk before she caught it. It was a thick scarf, made from a myriad of odds and ends of wool. As soon as one colour ran out, another piece of wool was knitted in. There was no pattern, only the colours blending into one another like the sunset. Daine stared at it in amazement.

"That's pretty." Alanna commented, walking up to the rail and examining the scarf. "It'll cover up that gods-cursed collar until we work out how to get it off you."

Daine smiled and wrapped the scarf around her neck, feeling warmer almost instantly. Alanna tweaked the ends until they were symmetrical and tugged her nose thoughtfully, hardly aware of having picked up the habit.

"Perhaps we can get the collar off by reversing the spell?" She raised a hand that shimmered with magic. Daine flinched away and shook her head apologetically. Quickly, she ran into her cabin. Alanna sighed.

"I've only known one other person who's that scared of magic, and they're both obstinate as hell." She muttered, picking up the paper from the package where Daine had dropped it.

"Maybe it's your influence." Numair replied, standing up. Having regained the majority of his gift, he looked less tired than he had done for weeks. Alanna pulled a face at him.

"I _meant, _Master Salmalin, that she won't fight against it. She knows why she's scared of magic, but she will do nothing about it."

"Give her time. You can't spell those collars, anyway." He pulled a tarnished gold circlet from his pocket and showed it to her. "I've been trying with this one, but it has some sort of shield on it. I've never seen so many enchantments on anything." He peered at the dock and grinned, dropping the collar back into his pocket. "Jon's here!"

"And Thayet." The Lady Knight waved frantically at the two figures. "Hey, Jon! Thayet! We're back!" As the two figures waved and hurried closer, she mock-scowled at the king. "Jon, I am going to make you _suffer_."

"You'll have to queue up, I'm afraid!" The tall man called back, starting up the gangplank. Alanna's grin faded slightly.

"It's that bad?"

"Yes- but don't start worrying yet. Tell us what happened in Carthak first."

Alanna nodded and glanced at Numair. The gangly mage cleared his throat and glanced around the ship.

"Ozorne is dead. He was trying to create an excuse during the talks to start his own war against Tortall. When that failed, he declared us traitors and tried to have us killed. He's been training magical assassins at the University- we know of at least three, but there could be more. If any have already been dispatched…" he shrugged and looked Jon in the eye, "One of them went insane. It took all my power just to defend myself and Daine from her. For all I know, there could be tens or hundreds of them, in all the armies."

Thayet gasped. Jon wearily pressed a hand to his forehead. "Great, so the war just became a lot more difficult. Homicidal, brainwashed mages to make my life complete!"

"I'm just theorising. There might not be any- but we should be cautious." Numair glanced up and smiled as Daine walked towards them. The girl bowed to Alanna, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry for my discourtesy earlier, Nobi…um… Alanna." She smiled wryly and straightened, then turned to bow to the two strangers. They were a man and a woman, both slender and dark-haired. Both of them wore simple but well-made clothes. The man had on a sword-belt, and the woman carried a bow and quiver of arrows nonchalantly. Although both of them seemed intent on the conversation, they were alert, watching the skies for Stormwings and Hurrocks.

The pair of them examined her as closely as she did them. They saw a thin young woman, with blue-grey eyes and long brown curls. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail, revealing a series of fresh scars that traced along her cheeks. Dark shadows ringed her eyes. She was wearing thin Carthaki-style clothes, and a brightly coloured scarf, under her dark cloak.

"Who are you?" Jon asked bluntly.

"Who are _you?" _She responded icily. Thayet covered a smile with her hand as Jon flushed, embarrassed. Numair smiled and put a hand on Daine's shoulder.

"Daine, may I introduce King Jonathan of Tortall, and Queen Thayet. Jon, Thayet, this is Daine."

Thayet watched with interest as the introduction took place. She knew most people would be nervous at meeting royalty- even she had been nervous, when she first met Jon, and she had been raised among royals. But the girl only stiffened slightly, and kept her face carefully blank as she bowed to the King. Numair caught sight of the expression on her face and scowled.

"Don't do that, Daine- it's disconcerting. These are our friends."

"I'd be a lot friendlier of I was off this goddess-cursed ship." Alanna muttered, looking longingly at the shore. Thayet glanced at Daine, and looked back at the dock.

"As soon as we get back, we're going to be mobbed by worried nobles. How about we go and get a meal at the inn first? You all look like you need to be fed." She smiled at Daine, who looked uneasily back at her. "No-one will recognise us, since we're not dressed like they'd expect."

Daine thought that was unlikely, since this woman had the most unforgettable face she'd ever seen. She tried to imagine Ozorne visiting an inn for a meal, dressed in plain clothes, and couldn't manage it.

"What sort of queen _are _you?" She whispered under her breath as the group started walking along the dock. Thayet looked back at her over her shoulder and smiled.

"The human sort."

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The inn served only rough meals, and small portions, since the country was in a famine. Even so, Daine had trouble finishing her plateful of stew. After years of eating only what the nobilities had rejected, the thick meat stew seemed too rich.

The company was also strange. Jon and Thayet had relaxed as soon as they had found the inn, refusing to "talk business" as they ate. As soon as they found a table, they became cheerful and friendly, chatting with the waitress and joking about the food.

Alanna and Numair joined in, happy to see their friends again. Alanna asked after her family, and was delighted when she was told they were safe and well. Daine felt stunned by being treated as an equal by these people, who only a month ago could have had her executed for dropping a teacup. Embarrassed, she shrunk into her seat and hid behind her hair.

Numair noticed her discomfort, and said diplomatically, "Daine, why don't you check on Cloud? I'm sure she'd like a piece of fruit."

Daine smiled her thanks, grabbed an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table, and darted away. Thayet watched her go, looking puzzled.

"Numair- who is she? Why did you bring her back here?"

Numair picked up a teaspoon and spun it idly between the fingers of his complete hand. "You remember the assassins I told you about earlier? She's one of them."

Jon choked on his cider and slammed the cup down, glaring at the mage. "_What! _You brought a Carthaki assassin into Tortall- _knowing _what she was?"

"What she _was_, not what she is." Numair continued placidly, dropping the spoon. "She's the one who killed Ozorne, not me or Alanna. We would have died if it hadn't been for her."

"I didn't trust her either, at first." Alanna said quietly, "She risked her life to help us, and I didn't believe her. I don't think she really trusts anyone, but she has a strong sense of what is right." The table fell silent as each person considered Daine. Thayet chewed her lip worriedly, an image of Daine on a killing spree refusing to make sense to her.

"Maybe it's a trick?" Thayet's voice was uneasy, as if she didn't believe she was asking. "I can't believe that girl is an assassin- it seems so unlikely."

"If Ozorne had kept her for another year, she would have been just as dangerous as the other one." Numair leaned forward intently. "None of them had been properly trained in their magic- the strongest one burned alive in front of my eyes, because she didn't know how to stop the gift consuming her…"

"But we're not running a school, Numair." Jon said softly, "We're in the middle of a war. I wouldn't trust _any_ new mages who have been used as killers in the middle of a war, and certainly not one of Ozorne's spies! It's just an extra danger, and at the moment I fear that we cannot deal with it."

Numair blinked. "You're afraid of her?" He read the expression on the king's face and groaned, sweeping his hair from his face distractedly. "Mithros, Mynoss and Shakkith!"

"You're being irrational, Jon." Alanna spoke up, frowning at the king. Jonathan scowled back.

"Imagine this- all the nobles in the palace wake up in the morning to find their children have been murdered in their sleep. How did the assassin get in? Well, master Salmalin _invited _an assassin from Carthak to stay!" He drained his glass angrily and carried on, "If she stays, I'll have to waste valuable troops guarding her, to make sure she doesn't do anything like that. I'll have to justify her being here to our allies- and they're not best pleased with me as it is…"

"What if _I _guard her?" Icicles dripped from Numair's tone as he stared at Jon in disgust. "You're making her a threat when she came here to help us. You don't know anything about her, yet you're planning to make her a prisoner! What is _wrong _with you?"

His Royal Highness glared at Numair. "You're a valuable soldier. You can't possibly guard her."

Numair stood up, sparks crackling in his eyes. The room suddenly fell very quiet. "If it wasn't for Daine, I'd be dead. Carthak would be attacking you, and your allies would already have turned against you. Even if she is an assassin, and she _does _kill me, you will have lost nothing."

He strode angrily from the room, drawing stares as he stalked past. The stares snapped to the table he had come from as the sound of a ringing slap was heard. Thayet rubbed her aching hand and hurried out with Alanna, leaving Jonathan with a clear handprint on his face.

"Welcome home, Alanna." Said Thayet.

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A/N: Sorry this is a bit slow getting started, the plot should pick up from the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 3: Broken Peace

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Chapter 3: Broken Peace

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Daine patted the pony affectionately, watching her finish off the apple. Cloud had grumpily allowed herself to be led out of the "floating" stable into what the sailors said was a more permanent stable, near the dry-dock and loading bays.

Daine paid no attention to her complaints, since she had said exactly the same thing when she had been taken into the ship she now claimed to love so much. Instead, she had passed the evening just enjoying the pony's company, currying her already pristine coat and braiding her tail just because, for once, she was allowed to. Before she'd even got the brushes out, she'd carefully hung her scarf up on a high peg, to keep it from getting dirty.

Belatedly, she remembered that she might have been expected back at the inn, but she reasoned that they must have a lot of news to catch up on. She didn't want to know about politics, or wars any more.

Cloud lavished in the affection, demanding oats and carrots for every braid that Daine "annoyed" her with, and crunching them happily in the girl's ear as she cleaned her hooves. Eventually, even Daine could think of nothing else that her pony could want to eat, and they fell back to talking and playing I-Spy.

Cloud lay down in the straw and looked around her. _I thought so._ She said.

"What's that, Cloud?" Daine said sleepily, leaning against the pony's belly and listening to the sound of horses sleeping peacefully.

The pony glanced around a second time, making sure, then muttered, _This is the stable they put us in before. Before we got on the ship. _

"Stables look very si-similar." Daine yawned, curling up against the pony and closing her eyes. Cloud looked at her, sighed, and glanced at the remains of a thin cord strung to a nearby pillar.

_I wonder if they still use it…_ she pondered. Daine didn't reply. Cloud curled around her slightly, knowing the stable would be cold if she awoke in the night, and pulled some loose hay from the manger over the girl in a makeshift blanket.

Cloud examined the stable critically without moving for a while, looking for signs of new use as she chewed an extra mouthful of hay. Daine had said Kavan was still alive, so if he was, he might have left Carthak once again to look for new slaves. Cloud didn't like that idea. Whenever she thought about Kavan, she had an uneasy vision of the dumpling man, chasing after Daine with a golden ring in his hand.

The door creaked open and a tall shadow walked through the stable, checking each stall carefully before moving on. As the shadow walked in and out of the occasional pools of light, Cloud could see that it was the stork-man. She whickered.

_Over here, Leggy McLegs. _

The mage looked towards the soft sound and caught sight of Cloud. He smiled at the sight of a dumpy pony among the proud warhorses. He was paler than usual, although Cloud guessed he could just be tired. This was the time when all _sensible _folk were asleep, after all. She gave him a very knowing look as he walked towards them, trying to convey this message to him.

"Can you understand people, even when they don't understand you…?" Numair whispered. Cloud flattened her ears. "Do you know where Daine is? I've looked _everywhere_ and…"

Cloud rolled her eyes and pointed to the girl, half hidden under the hay. Numair looked surprised, but decided not to disturb her. To the pony's interest, he carefully assembled a cushion of hay at the other side of the stall, and sat on it, meticulously brushing stray fragments from his knees.

"I promised Jon I'd …look out for her." He explained to the pony, looking embarrassed. Cloud fixed him in her stare, then nodded carefully and decided that even if _he _wasn't going to sleep, _she _certainly would. Within minutes, she was snoring. Numair stared at the sleeping pair, deep in thought.

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_The sun was shining brightly, baking the ground to dust. Daine looked up into the ruins of her village. Smoke streamed from the chimneys, even the ones that had long ago crumbled. Overjoyed, she ran into the nearest house. Sure enough, the house was full of people, living happily just as they had years ago. She left the house and ran up the crumbled street, trying desperately to see…_

…_to see the house, perfectly intact, the walls a mass of climbing herbs. Daine breathed in deeply and happily, but didn't stop to savor the perfume- she could hear…_

…_could hear voices from inside- the bright voice of a child, the light voice of her mother. She ran into the doorway, and there they were- her mother, and Danny. Fresh lilies stood between them in a vase on the table, as Sarra showed the young boy how to spin. His first try spun wildly out of control. Both of them laughed. Sarra smiled at Daine and said…_

…_said, "He is with me, he is safe." And smiled. _

…_and smiled…_

…_and screamed as burning arms reached through the window, setting the low thatch ablaze…_

…_ablaze, and falling around them…_

_Sarra fell. Daine ran to put her arms around her, to pick her up, to save her, but even as she touched her, the beautiful woman screamed from her embrace and turned to ashes. _

_Danny fell. Daine looked at him as he struggled to his feet. A burning timber fell on the floor before him, blocking is way. _

"_Daine!" He screamed, holding his chubby hands out to her. "Help me!"_

"_I can't!" She started crying wretchedly, "You'll die!"_

"_Daine! Please!" The little boy coughed pathetically and collapsed…_

…_collapsed…_

…_dying…_

…_and the house fell around them. Daine stood up, completely unharmed, and faced her village. They screamed and ran from her. _

_Daine raised her arms to try to stop them as they ran. One by one, they fell to ashes. Low laughter purred from the sky as she looked at her own hands…_

…_her own hands…_

…_ablaze…_

"_Murderer…" purred the sky._

Daine screamed and sat bolt upright, gazing at her hands in horror. The low flickering torchlight played over them, making flames crawl over each finger. Horrified, she tore at her hands, trying desperately to beat the flames out. Something grabbed her wrists, holding her still as she struggled, trying to get away from the flames…

A soft mage-light flared in the air, expelling the torchlight. The flames went out. Daine looked up into the worried face of Numair and started crying. Slowly, slowly, the dream faded around her, until she was back in the stable. She sobbed helplessly into the mage's shoulder as he held her.

"I thought the nightmares weren't as bad any more." He said softly, when she was calmer.

"They aren't, usually…" Daine sniffed and looked at her trembling hands fearfully. No trace of the flickering flames remained. She sighed and sent a silent message to the worried horses who'd been woken by her scream, reassuring them. As they settled down, she pulled away from Numair and blew out the tiny lantern, extinguishing the flickering flames.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"Don't be. Everyone has nightmares." His dark eyes were shadowed for a moment as he watched the mage light. Soft grey shadows from the tiny stall window were making it appear dimmer each second. He guessed it was about half past four.

"Maybe not all of us have nightmares that _dramatically,_ though." He teased, forcing himself to smile. Daine smiled shakily back at him.

"It's nearly dawn- do you think you could sleep again?" Numair watched as Daine shook her head, then nodded his own. "Would you like to learn how to meditate? It's relaxing, if nothing else- it might help you sleep better."

"It's nothing magical, is it?" The girl asked suspiciously. Numair shook his head and flicked a piece of straw off his cloak, wondering how to phrase it.

"It's… no more magical than you talking to Cloud. Mages and non-mages use it, and both find it helpful. It uses only what you already have, and strengthens it. I use it to make my gift stronger, but I could just as easily use it to organize my thoughts, or just to relax."

"So… I could use it to 'organize' the nightmares away?"

"No, but you could confront the memories that are causing them."

Daine thought for a moment, combing her hair absently with her fingers. "Alright, what do I do?"

When Cloud woke up a few hours later, it was to see the two humans, sitting cross-legged on the floor with their eyes shut. She whickered softly and stood up to reach a hidden bag of feed while Daine wasn't looking. She was halfway through this very tasty prize when they opened their eyes. Daine blinked a few times, then saw the spilled bag of oats.

"Bad Cloud! They were for some other horse!"

_Finders Keepers. _The pony said placidly.

"Cloud seems to know the stable well." Numair climbed to his feet. Daine nodded and took the bag off the floor, hanging it on a peg.

"We've been here before, just before we were sold."

_I said that, not you. _The pony mumbled, chewing industriously.

"Well it doesn't matter who said it first, as long as one of us said it." Daine replied, "Besides, if I didn't tell anyone, no-one else will know how observant you are." She grinned as the pony snorted loudly, and caught sight of the cord. Cautiously, she bit it, and winced as her teeth stung. "It's definitely the same place. Kavan spelled this, to stop me cutting through it."

Numair reached out and grabbed the cord, testing it with his gift. Daine shuddered at the glittering sparks, but stayed still. The cord glowed brightly, then fell against the wall to rot, its protection from years of decay destroyed. He sighed and brushed his hands off.

"Well, that proves that he's still alive, at least. I wonder how such a powerful mage traveled through Tortall without being detected?"

Daine opened her mouth to reply, when a wash of pain exploded out from the collar. She staggered backwards, clutching at it. As the pain increased, she heard a deep, mocking voice emerging from her own throat.

"_Do not pry, Master mage… there are some things too important for you to understand… my secrets belong to me, not you!" _

"Are you Kavan?" Numair's face darkened.

The voice rose to a shriek, tearing through Daine's throat like glass. _"I am the Rancune, and you shall not interfere! They are my secrets, not yours!" _

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A/N: Phew! Finally, the plot begins. For those of you who are wondering, "Rancune" means "Ill-will" (like a grudge) in French.


	5. Chapter 4: Rancune and Scul

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Chapter 4: Rancune and Scul

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"It's a sensible precaution, I guess." Alanna said, looking at the tarnished collar uneasily. "If you had a slave who was more capable of running away- or even flying away- you'd want to know where they are. I just can't believe we missed it, before…"

"Gods-damned listening spells? We should have seen them right away! I can't believe we were so _stupid!" _Numair paced the room, frustrated. He had found Alanna in the old stately home that Jon was using as a temporary base.

Alanna glanced at the sleeping Daine, lowered her voice and tried to calm the irate mage down.

"When we were in Carthak, we didn't say anything important when there were slaves around. They can't have used the slave collars for listening in on us- it's too unreliable. That's why I think the spells are only a precaution against runaways. Just because they're there, doesn't mean they're dangerous."

"Someone heard me speaking to Daine. He actually channeled his voice through her to threaten me! Do you know how much power that takes? Who's to say he's not listening as we speak, right now?"

Numair looked stricken at the thought, and made a visible effort to calm himself down. Alanna's hand slipped to the hilt of her sword- an instinctive gesture she made whenever she was worried.

"Did he say who he was? I can't imagine Carthak is concerned with runaway slaves at the moment…"

A frown-line appeared on Numair's forehead. "He said he was "The Rancune", whatever that is."

"It sounds like a title, almost." The redheaded mage frowned. "Is that all he said?"

"Pretty much. We were talking about the slave trader who found Daine- he was a strong mage, but no-one detected him. I asked her if she knew why, and suddenly that damned collar started glowing. The Rancune said his name, warned me not to ask about the "secrets", and then Daine passed out."

Alanna looked again at Daine, whose neck was covered in a livid burn. "I wonder if I should heal her?"

"She wouldn't thank you for it." Numair sat down at the table and glared at the broken collar. Alanna sat opposite him, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a tribal name, although I've never heard anything like that- Jon might have done. You should ask his help anyway- I have to go and join the armies at the Scanra border tomorrow. I can't stay here while Tortall dies."

"But we can't ask him." Numair said moodily. "He already sees her as a threat- if he knew about this, he'd _have _to eliminate what he sees as a danger. The nobles are forcing his hand, even now- this stupid war has terrified them into a kind of democratic dictatorship."

Alanna looked impressed. "After that scene in the inn, I thought you didn't understand that. He is sorry for doubting Daine, you know, but he can't ignore her. The simple fact that she is Carthaki property makes her a problem."

"A problem, not a threat." Numair's dark eyes were grim as he glanced at the girl. "But now she is both. If they find out…"

"…they'd kill her." Alanna finished, the fear clear in her eyes.

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_She stood…or maybe she floated… in a realm of complete darkness. As she floated, she wondered if there was anything else, or if it was just… black, for ever and ever. It was the darkness of shadows, the darkness of sleep, soothing and entrapping at the same time. _

_She realized she was standing on a solid floor. She looked down, and saw her feet lit as clearly as they were at midday. Blackness stretched all around her. She lifted her arms and saw they were lit, too. She suddenly felt vulnerable._

_-Daine…-_

_"I don't want another nightmare." She shut her eyes and covered her ears with her hands._

_-Daine.-_

_"Why should I listen to you? You're not real. You're just a nightmare." She wondered why she could still hear the voice with her ears covered. A rattling breath gurgled behind her, sounding like water gurgling down a drain._

_-I am not a nightmare. I just wish to speak to you. -_

_"I won't listen!" _

_-Do you believe you have a _choice?- _It screeched. Daine didn't reply. The creature's voice took on echoes as it screamed at her, until it seemed like a whole army of voices was fighting to be heard._

–**_The nightmares will be nothing compared to what could happen! You will fear to sleep! Every time you close your eyes, or even blink, we shall haunt you! There will be no rest! You will welcome death before you welcome sleep. You think you were insane before? We are insanity!- _**

_A low chuckle gurgled behind her, falling flat in the dark dream-world. The myriad of voices faded, leaving only the original. –We will show you true insanity. We will make a gift of it to you. We control the nightmares! We control your mind!-_

_Daine, shocked at the sudden outburst, spun around to face the threat, opening her eyes. "I though you said you weren't a nightmare…" She began, then stopped with a gasp at what she saw._

_The creature grinned at her. Or, at least, it might have grinned. Formless, sometimes human, sometimes not, it changed constantly in the darkness of the dream. _

_In front of what might be its face, an elegant claw held a human skull on the fragmented remains of the spine- a grotesque parody of a festival mask. The skull grinned at her, frozen forever in a deathly gesture of delight. _

_Daine smothered a gasp and willed her knees to stop trembling. "Wh- what are you, and why do you wish to talk to me?"_

_The grin._

–_I am Scul, a child of Chaos.-_

"_What's that, when it's at home?"_

_The thing didn't falter, its voice perfectly calm, if cold. –I am a child of Uusoae.-_

"_What do you want?" Daine folded her arms rebelliously. _

_The grin. _

_-We have been watching your dreams with great interest. Your mind is chaotic, as are your emotions. You are perfect.-_

"_Seems to me you have a pretty weird view of what is 'perfect'." Daine said. There was a pause as she took in the shape-shifting monstrosity before her. "Then again, you _would_."_

_The grin. _

_-Even your character is chaotic. One minute you cower, the next you seek to taunt us.-_

"_What a compliment." The girl told it dryly. _

_A pause. The grin. _

_-Why don't you fear us?-_

"_You aren't real."_

_-You fear your dreams, and yet we are more real than they are. Why do you not fear us?-_

"_What is there to fear? All you threatened me with was what I already suffer. I do not fear that."_

_The creature suddenly roared in its thousand voices. **–You are a murderer! You killed our host! We are angry! Why do you not fear us? Why do you not fall to your knees and plead for you life? We are fear! How do you resist? We are fear!-**_

_Daine raised her chin mulishly and waited the creature out. It oozed closer to her on scales, claws and insect legs, the rattle of its breath dying quickly in the darkness around it. The sudden calm was almost as terrifying as the abrupt anger, but Daine refused to be intimidated._

_-Do you not wish to hear our suggestion? The other mortal mage was _very_ interested.- _

"_It looks like I must."_

_The grin._

_-That is right. You have no choice…-_

"_But then, I can _**wake up**."

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A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short… I've been aiming for a 2000 word average (I'm trying to work on pacing) but sometimes it just doesn't suit the storyline…

I'm taking a lot of the inspiration for this story from Terry Goodkind's books. If you haven't read them (And you're over, say, sixteen) I totally recommend that you read them. :D

Thank you all for your kind reviews so far! I'm so happy that people liked Desert enough to want to read on! You guys are the greatest. :)


	6. Chapter 5: To say Goodbye

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Forest

Chapter 5: To say Goodbye

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"Your majesty."

Jonathan looked up from a stack of papers and frowned at the lanky mage, who was bowing to him _very_ properly from the doorway. "Numair." He greeted him, just as coldly. The two of them glared at each other for a moment, then Jon waved nobly at a chair opposite him, indicating that this unwanted visitor should sit down while his king finished with reports of a more _vital _nature. Numair sat down and glanced curiously (but expressionlessly) around the room.

The house was old but grand, having belonged to an ancient noble family once upon a time, but was now fallen into decay. The elaborate tapestries and draperies that covered the walls were almost totally concealed by maps, tactical diagrams and lists of codes. At one point the code breaker must have run out of the valuable paper, as the white plaster on the scarce bare patches of wall was also covered in code.

Around the room, scores of clerks and couriers scuttled around in organized chaos, taking papers and letters from one place to another, drawing out diagrams, organizing messages into piles depending on their importance, and so on.

Numair could recognize a few of the faces from the rare occasions where he had worked as a spy, but a great many more were new- young, nervous looking men and women, probably dragged out of schools or their homes in the desperation of the war. Numair watched Jon's ears getting progressively redder, until he grew bored with the silence.

"I have come to ask you what my next job is." Numair kept his face carefully blank- not apologizing, not provoking, just blank. "I assume you don't want me to go to Scanra with Alanna, or you would have told me via her."

Jon looked up, his eyes bleak. "She's not going to Scanra- not yet, anyway. She's going to Pirate's Swoop."

"Pirate's Swoop?" Numair gaped at him, his anger forgotten. "What earthly good could she do there?"

"Her family is there." Jon fiddled nervously with the papers in front of him, finally giving up and meeting the other man's eyes, lowering his voice to a confidential tone. "I wanted to give her a chance to… to say goodbye. She's going to Scanra after that."

"Why on earth didn't she tell me?" The mage demanded. Jonathan shrugged, the gesture clear- _this is Alanna we're talking about. _Numair tapped his fingers against the table, dry paper crackling under his fingertips.

"To say goodbye… is it really that bad, Jon?"

Jon looked at the couriers and waved a hand in dismissal. As they hurried out of the room, he smiled humorlessly at Numair. "It's so bad, I can't imagine any way that it could be worse. Not even if Mithros himself came down from the immortal realms with a grudge against all Tortallans. The passes are being snowed shut, and the seas are treacherous in winter. We cannot try to form an alliance with anyone…we can't _reach_ anyone. After we eat the winter stores, we will have nothing to plant in the spring."

His voice rose angrily, as if yelling would show the distant armies his loathing. "Even if Scanra doesn't kill us in the winter, we will starve in the summer. _That's_ why I sent Alanna to say goodbye!"

He suddenly stood up and swept the pile of paper and inks off the desk, watching angrily as glass shattered and spilled ink spread over the white field. Numair started to get up, but stopped as Jon glared at him. His Royal Highness kicked at the papers frustratedly.

"It all seems so _pointless! _I _hate _paperwork, but I'm the only person I can trust to do it! I'd much rather go riding, or maybe go and chop up some Scanrans… but I'm _king_! I have to sit here like a vegetable, watching my country die around me… and there's nothing I can do about it! _Nothing!" _

"You've cut yourself." Numair said quietly. Jon looked at his hand, where a shard of glass from an inkwell had scored a deep cut. Sighing, he pulled the glass out and touched the wound with a glowing finger, healing it instantly. Slowly, he began picking up the papers and stacking them back on the desk, wiping ink off the worst ones. As Numair knelt down to help, Jon began to speak again, very quietly.

"Numair- I want to give you a choice. Now that Ozorne is dead, you can be Arram Draper again. You can disappear from this country before it falls- start a new life. You don't have to get involved in a losing battle. I'd be more content about losing Tortall and…dying… if I knew one of my friends, at least, was alive."

Numair blinked at him. "No."

"But…"

"You must be tired, or you'd never even think I'd accept such an offer. I will die for Tortall, with Tortall, just as you knew I would."

Jonathan straightened the last stack of papers and sighed. "I figured you might say that…"

"On one condition."

Numair waited and watched Jon's expression as he realized what the mage was getting at. The king groaned and flung himself in the chair in a most undignified manner. Numair sat opposite him again, waiting for him to say what they both knew.

"This isn't about that girl…?"

"I promised her she would be accepted here."

"I can't. The nobles…"

Numair cut him off with a swift gesture. Jonathan recognized it as a rough spy sign for 'secret', before the lanky man continued, "Not the nobles. _You. _She can't fight for us without your consent. She's the sort of person who wouldn't say boo to a goose without permission." He leaned forwards and said, intently, "I swear to you that she is trustworthy. And you need all the help you can get."

"Why is she so important to you?" Jon looked at the mage's stony face. "Um…never mind. If you claim responsibility for her…" He thought it over and nodded. Suddenly businesslike, he looked at the repaired work desk. "Can you see an inkpot that isn't broken anywhere?"

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Daine sighed and opened her eyes, looking in confusion at the unfamiliar room she was in. It was more lavish than any room she had ever been in before, with tapestries hanging on the walls to stave off the winter cold, and carvings on the modest fireplace. Looking closely, though, she realized that the tapestries were moth-eaten and threadbare, and the cherubic carvings were coated in a thick layer of dust. She scowled and looked around for something to dust them with.

"I have _got _to stop waking up in such dirty places." She muttered under her breath. She found a scrap of cloth in one of her pockets, and set to work on a pony whose tail had broken off. After two years of slavery, the work was second nature, and gave her time to think.

By the time the fireplace was reasonably clean, she was fully awake, and had recalled the odd dream enough times to be able to write a novel of it. Still thinking, she opened the door and went exploring.

The first corner she turned, she found a small flock of starlings roosting around a window. Hesitantly, she tried to speak to them, not really expecting them to answer.

For the last two years, the only People she had spoken to were horses and ponies. She had obstinately blocked out the voices of every other animal, unable to bear the thought of their freedom when she herself was caged. Eventually, she had convinced herself that they had deserted her, first, and stopped feeling guilty for her silence.

She went up to the nearest bird- a small chick, barely a week out of the nest. It peeped and fluttered away, hiding behind an older starling.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." Daine said hesitantly. The bird regarded her for a moment, fluffing out its feathers against the cold. The tiny bird behind it peeked out from behind the wings and chirped. The larger bird spun around and pecked at it, forcing it to fly further away.

Daine watched the display and sighed, turning away from the starling flock.

_You are wrong to teach the young to trust humans. _The larger bird hopped closer. _They do not know what you are._

Daine couldn't stop herself smiling. "You're speaking to me!"

_Yes. If I let you talk to my children, will you warn them about the other humans? It might mean more, from you. They are very curious, and not yet very wise. _The starling cocked his head to one side and fixed her with one beady eye as she nodded.

When Numair found her, she was covered in tiny speckled birds, who were all peeping at once. She looked up and smiled at him, bidding the starlings goodbye as they flew off, scared, and started to hunt for bugs.

"What did they say?" Asked the tall man, looking out of the window at the birds.

"They're migrating to the western islands tomorrow. They left it a bit overdue, because they had a late hatching. The new chicks are nervous, because they've never flown such a long way before, but the older ones say there are some good thermals along the way, so it really only takes two wing-beats to get there. They're not very good at counting." She added.

"Western Islands? Do you mean the Yamani Islands?" Numair asked, then checked himself and handed her a rolled up letter, sealed with red wax. "I was talking to Jon, and he asked me to give this to you."

"Just like that?" The girl raised an eyebrow, looking suspicious. Numair grinned, wondering how the girl had detected the temporary hostility between the two men.

"Exactly like that." He turned and watched the birds flying outside, giving Daine some privacy to read in. Curious, she slit under the seal with a fingernail, not wanting to destroy the beautiful design, and unrolled the paper. A second, smaller piece fluttered out and landed on the floor. Hastily, she picked it up and read it.

_I, Jonathan of Conte, King of Tortall, declare Veralidaine Sarrasri to be a citizen of Tortall. This declaration frees her of any obligation to any other country, in times of war and peace, until the day she dies. _

A neat signature followed. Daine blinked away the sudden tears in her eyes and read the second letter, holding it carefully so the tears didn't fall and smudge the ink.

_Dear Daine,_

_I must apologise for my impolite behavior when I met you. It is understandable for me to be cautious in times of war, but caution is no excuse for incivility. _

_Numair declares you to be trustworthy, and I believe him to be right. I have enclosed an item which I hope proves my trust in you. Remember that as a citizen of Tortall, you have a responsibility to your home- but you also have freedom to choose your own path. Act as you feel is right, remembering your loyalty to your country, and I am sure that whatever the outcome, your actions will make us proud. _

_The item I have enclosed is one of an identical pair. The second is being recorded as I write this in the ledgers of our country. I thought it wise for you to have your own copy, in case your old life catches up with you. Use it with discretion. _

_Thank you for your help in this war. Our country owes you a debt, and I hope this reaches some way to paying off that debt. _

_Most Sincerely, _Jonathan

P.S_. Don't let that lanky mage bully you, he's ridiculously obstinate but a good friend when all is done. _

Daine smiled at the informal addendum and wiped her eyes a second time. Words like "home" and "freedom" danced up from the page. She leaped up and threw her arms around a surprised Numair, hugging him joyfully. He grinned at her. "Good news, was it?"

"I don't know how you did it…"

"_I? _I didn't do anything." Numair tried to look dignified. "I wouldn't presume to put words into Jonathan's mouth. He was totally sincere when he wrote it."

She laughed and looked at the letter again, noting the post-script. "It's the best present I've ever had. Thank you so much!" She hugged him again and spun around, waving the letter at the birds outside the window, who cheeped in alarm.

"I have a home!"

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Ranty A/N: A rather bittersweet chapter, I fear… thank you all for your reviews! I'm sorry that the story's rather confusing so far… I promise it will become clearer! I just don't like writing the kind of characters who come in and say:

**VILLAIN:** Muahaha! I am the egocentric baddie!

**HERO:** I am the hero! showy pose

**VILLAIN:** Hero? I will tell you my entire plan, home address and Email so that you can spend the rest of the novel creating the perfect, most ironic way to kill me!

**HERO:** You'll never get away with it! pose

Exaggeration is your friend:P But seriously, exposition dialogue annoys me. I can't write it without boring people, and I find it kind of unrealistic. How many people have you spilled your guts to this week? Seriously. I prefer to be mysterious (and therefore confusing.)


	7. Chapter 6A: Copper and Snow

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Forest

Chapter 6: Copper and Snow

(Part A)

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A/N: This is only the first half of chapter 6- I've almost finished the second half but I won't get a chance to upload it until Saturday, and I'd rather update than let you think I'd given up. :P

Anyway, I have a good excuse for not writing this week- MY BROTHER IS ENGAGED! He proposed on Tuesday and she said yes! dances So, I was kinda too excited to write. :)

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As the sky darkened, snow began to fall. Softly, it covered the port in a white blanket, covering the ice from the day before. Alarmed at the sudden blizzard, the starlings left before nightfall. Daine wished them goodbye cheerfully, promising to see them again in the spring- and warning the chicks about humans at the old Starling's request.

That evening, Daine and Numair dined with Alanna for the last time. Rather than stay in the dusty, crowded stately house, they had wandered around the snowy town looking for pubs or inns that still had food to serve. As they walked, they caught up on news, falling quickly back into the easy comradeship they had gained on the boat. At first the conversation was about the snow- Alanna complaining about it, mainly- but eventually the conversation led to some of the things Jon had said that afternoon.

Alanna was surprised that Numair had found out about her visit to Pirate's Swoop, but was pleased to have the excuse to tell Daine about her home and family. As she warmed to her subject (but not to the weather), she realized to her surprise that Daine had no idea of her past- a subject for which she was infamous amongst most Tortallans. When she was in Galla it was unusual for news to reach the mountains- and when she was in Carthak her political education had been extremely biased.

Daine's eyes grew as wide as saucers as she listened to Alanna's stories of thieves and conspiracies, evil sorcerers and warriors. Numair teased the knight shamelessly, coaxing more stories from her. The tales lasted them right through their meal, until the lamps in the dim bar were burned down to pale orange flames. All three sat back with a pitcher of cider, feeling very full of food and facts.

"This is nice." Daine smiled. "It almost makes up for the weather." She gestured at the window, where fat snowflakes were dancing by. The streets were unusually quiet- people were hurrying home to get away from the cold

"I'm not looking forward to going tomorrow," Alanna admitted languidly, "I've always hated the cold. When this war is over I'm going straight back to the desert for a long holiday." She shut her eyes, as if she could see the Bazhir on the inside of her eyelids. "It's nice and warm in this inn, though. It's a shame we chose one so far from the house- now we have to walk back."

"Everyone hates the cold. Stop feeling sorry for yourself." Numair yawned. Alanna opened one eye to glare at him.

"I have to get back on that goddess-cursed boat to get around the stormwing flocks. I can feel sorry for myself if I choose! They've taken over the middle-lands, you know?"

Numair nodded. Daine frowned.

"How did they do that? Surely they would start from near the boundary openings and work their way in?"

Alanna smiled bitterly, remembering the horror of the stormwing attacks when they had been anticipating just that thing.

"See- stormwings are actually pretty smart- curse them." She spat on the floor, and continued, "While we were busy shifting our troops into the lands near the boundary, expecting something like you said, a good five hundred of the damn things flew up into the cloud layer, and attacked right from the middle of Tortall. It completely decimated our armies."

"And they can fly over the mountains, so they can attack when we're afraid of snow or mudslides." Numair added.

Alanna smiled wistfully. "Imagine if we had some on our side- we could find some way for them to carry us across the sea, or the mountains, in hours."

"It takes more time than that-days- even to fly. You have to find the right thermals, and places to rest." Daine said absently. She poured herself another glass of cider, and then noticed the two mages staring at her. "What?"

"You've flown across the sea?" Alanna demanded, her violet eyes sharpening. Daine nodded and shrugged in the same gesture.

"Only once- to the far end of the Copper Isles. It was difficult."

"But…why? Were you trying to escape?" The knight asked, seeing how uneasy the girl looked at the question. Daine blinked and shook her head.

"No… Ozorne had us curse one of the foreigners who got away- K-Kat wrote the curse into a letter, and I had to carry it to his ship. She didn't know any other ways of sending a curse then, and Ozorne was very angry with the Ambassador. He told us _exactly_ what kind of curse to create. There was a storm while I was following them, and I got lost- the sea looks the same whichever way you're facing. They were nearly in port by the time I got there."

"And then what happened?" The lady knight leaned her head on her hand, looking absorbed. Daine looked uncomfortable, running a finger along the edge of the collar under the scarf.

"Please, Daine- it's important." Numair said. Rather dubious, the girl continued uneasily:

"The ship… sank; they all drowned. I flew back. What else is there to say?"

"So… you flew from Carthak to the Northern Copper Isles _and_ back?"

"Yes! After I got back, I couldn't move my arms for a week, but I did it. But I did it to _kill _someone! It's nothing to be proud of! Why are you asking all these questions?"

"Just one more question: Could you do it again?"


	8. Chapter 6B: Silver Sun

888

Forest

Chapter 6b: Silver Sun

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"I'm not saying it's a _bad_ idea…" Jonathan started in the tone of one who will say 'no' very apologetically (but not too apologetically, as even kings get rather ratty when awoken with long-winded ideas in the early hours). Numair interrupted him before he got a chance.

"I know it's a long way… but, look, if we could get to the Copper Isles, that's half way there, at least."

"The Copper Isles are neutral. And you've already told me all this. Can I tell you the flaws in your plan now, or would you rather find them out when your life is at stake?"

"If they're neutral, they won't mind- they probably wouldn't even care." Numair snapped. "You're deliberately…"

"I'm not. I think it could work, but it's dangerous! Firstly, the Copper Islanders may be neutral, but they won't hesitate to attack any intruders they find…"

"We'll only be there a few days."

"Secondly: flying from Carthak in summer is one thing, but in winter- in this storm?"

"Real birds can do it." Numair realised how stupid this sentence sounded and interrupted himself. "I mean- surely it's worth a chance? I admit that it's dangerous, but…"

"Whose life are you prepared to risk?" Jonathan asked abruptly. He held up a hand before the mage could answer, cutting off any remarks. "No, don't interrupt. Let me think."

Numair scowled and waited as the king stood up and poured two cups of cider. There was a hiss from one of the candles as a draught from the window flame made it gutter and dance, finally blowing it out. Jon handed Numair a glass and looked at the candle, then back at the mage.

"You told me once that you can't light a candle with your gift- that you can only do big magic." He said slowly, "If you can do what you plan to do, that would be a _very_ big magic. I suppose if anyone can do it you can."

"Thank you." Numair smiled wryly and drank from the cup. "Is that a yes, or a no?"

"I don't know. Have you even asked Daine about this? Does she understand?"

"It was her idea." The mage lied.

"Then why isn't she here, trying to convince me to agree to this crazy scheme?" Jonathan's voice was serious, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of amusement. "I don't suppose it matters what I say, does it? Even if I say no, there's no way I could stop you from going. And the nobles _will_ say no."

"I know that."

"You're asking me to go against them? Again? I can't." Jon held a hand up again, almost unaware of the commanding regal gesture that ordered silence. "So I can't tell you to pick up any letters I might write to the Yamani lords tomorrow as a treaty offering, and I can't give you unlimited access to supplies, and I certainly can't keep the nobles from knowing about it until you've left." He stood up and grinned at the mage. "I'm sorry, I just can't."

"Thanks, Jon." Numair smiled back, "I'm in your debt."

"You are- but if you pull this plan off, I shall consider you've paid off your debt."

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_-So this time we are running.- _

"We?"

_-The darkness has no air, but streams of night that glide past as we run. They tangle in our hair, dragging us back, but it doesn't matter. We aren't trying to reach anywhere, we're just running.-_

"Why are 'we' doing that? Seems like a stupid thing to do."

_-We do not tire; we have purpose but no drive. We are running because it is through movement that we exist. We glide across the plains of night, invisible, but when we are gone we are missed.-_

"Well, that's just a load of nonsense."

_-We are the chaos of inactivity, the dreams with no spirit, the dissatisfaction in the hearts of man…-_

"_And_ women. For instance, I'm dissatisfied that you're quoting poetry at me instead of talking to me, Scul."

_-We are waiting for Scul. We are his brethren. We cannot enter the world without his aid. We are the runners. We are the watchers…-_

"Always 'we'! Odds bobs! Haven't you heard of the word 'I'?"

_-We are…-_

"That's a 'no' then, is it?"

_-We do not…-_

"I'll just stay here and wait for Scul."

_-But we cannot permit…-_

"He's promised me some interesting nightmares. All this black is starting to get boring."

_-We are confused.- _

"Prob'ly because there's too many of you. Wake me up when Scul gets here."

_-We do not understand. You are already asleep.- _

"Exactly."

_-We do not understand.- _

"Good."

_Daine blinked a few times, testing the blackness, before curling up on what passed as a floor in the darkness and closing her eyes. It seemed foolish to try to sleep in a dream, but she was bored and the Runners were annoying her. Agitated, confused, they spun in the darkness around her looking for the arrival of Scul. Resolve and decisiveness scared them- they didn't know how to react. Daine listened to their horrified whisperings and smiled, before covering her ears with her hands. _

_Rather than sleeping, she closed her eyes tightly and tried to remember dreams she'd had, before everything got so confusing. Surrounded by darkness, she could see them in bright colours before her eyes. _

_She used to have nightmares, but they were never very terrible. For a long time she had slept the dreamless sleep of the bone weary. Sometimes she would wake up sweating, dreading to fall asleep in case some vision returned- but the memories would soon fade, and by morning she had usually forgotten. She would leave her pallet and climb up into the hay loft near the horses, and feel peaceful. _

_Above her, the Runners milled aimlessly. A few from the outside of the circle sped away and came back, excited. The cyclone spun faster. _

_Usually she would dream of her home, in Galla. Daine smiled, remembering the simple cottages and the simple people. There were bright flowers and sweet-smelling herbs in the summer, brightly coloured leaves and apples in the woods in the autumn, and the cries of the young animals in the spring. _

_The only dream she'd had that was any different… Daine frowned at the memory of the Badger. The very short dream of the creature was more than enough to convince her of his rude nature, his foul smell… thinking about it, she had been wrong to speak to him like she had, especially since it turned out he was right… but he was only a dream, and a dream with bad halitosis at that…_

_Something ripped into her shoulder and pulled her off the ground, throwing her through the drifting wall of Runners and into something hard. Daine cursed and opened her eyes, wincing at the pain in her arm as Scul strode towards her. _

_**-How DARE you!- **Scul screeched in a thousand angry voices. Daine glared at it and staggered to her feet, pulling herself up against the thing she had landed on. Wondering what it was, she glanced behind her. _

_It was an apple tree. Burnished leaves shone in sunlight that didn't exist in the blackness. The sweet smell of ripe fruit perfumed the dark. She gaped at it, then remembered that a very angry demon was in the process of attacking her. _

_Scul continued to walk towards her, slowing down as it approached the tiny glen. Grass crackled and died under its many feet as it approached. _

"I only spoke to them- I didn't hurt them! What are you angry for?" _Daine shouted at it, tears of pain running down her cheeks. Scul made a desultory noise. _

_**-You think we protect the Runners? You think we care about such pathetic beings? You have violated this place! This mortal dream is a desecration! You will die for this!-**_

_Daine gaped at it. The creature raised six arms, suddenly very decided in the form it was using- a grotesque spidren, overlarge and with far too many legs. It glistened like silver- every joint and corner sharpened, each claw tapered to needle sharpness. The skull mask had blended into its head, silver fluid oozing from each eye socket. The grisly tears splashed onto the ground, dissolving the glen piece by piece. _

_Daine tried to wake up, to run away, but the Runners wrapped themselves around her legs and stopped her. They screamed when they touched the glowing grass or the tree, but stayed there. The girl struggled, but they only wrapped themselves tighter. Hopelessly, she shut her eyes and waited to die. _

_An inhuman snarl echoed around the darkness, and suddenly she was free. Daine opened her eyes and staggered away from the spidren as a black and white blur ran into the glen. Scul hesitated as the Runners sped away, screaming as one, then looked at the intruder. _

_**-Well well, a badger.-**_

"Badger?" _whispered Daine, clutching her shoulder to stop it bleeding. The large animal glared back at her. _

_-Halitosis, is it? Not the most flattering invocation I've ever received…- It grumbled, -Well, why are you just standing there? Get out of here, you foolish kit!-_

"But you'll be hurt!" _Daine started towards the pair, picking up a branch to use as a weapon. The badger snarled, and suddenly she couldn't move._

_**-You cannot control her! She belongs to US!- **Scul screeched, darting past the badger towards Daine, claws outstretched. The badger stayed still, looked Daine squarely in the eye, and blinked. _

_And Daine…_

…woke up.

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A/N: There, the second half of chapter six. I didn't realize this chapter would be quite as long as it is, so I'm actually quite glad I split it up…

Thank you for your reviews and your congrats! My brother says thanks as well. :)


	9. Chapter 7: Realms

Forest 

Chapter 7: Realms

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Daine woke up and groaned, pressing a hand to her aching shoulder. She ventured out of bed to light a candle at the dying fire, hurrying quickly back under the warm covers. The candle flame flickered in the slight draught from under the door, but Daine could see well enough to make out a long, shallow cut running down from her collarbone. Wondering if she had slept on something sharp, cutting her shoulder and prompting the strange dream, she searched under her pillow. Her fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. Frowning, she pulled it out.

It was a gleaming silver claw. As it caught the dim light, a myriad of different colours shone from it- not bright or delicate colours, but dirty yellows and blood reds, murky greens and black. Daine felt ill looking at it, as if it were something dead or diseased. Shivering, she dropped it on the bedside table.

_-Keep it. It can't hurt you. They don't have much power in the mortal realms yet.- _The badger appeared in a glare of silver light and sniffed at the claw, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Daine gaped at the apparition, noticing how much smaller he looked, and how tired his voice was. The badger looked at her expectantly.

"Um… I'm not dreaming this, am I?" Daine asked hopefully. The badger shook his head. "I thought not. But, um, what just happened…that was a dream?" The badger hesitated, and then nodded a second time. Daine picked up the claw and winced. "So how did this get here? And why am I hurt? You're lying."

_-You were in _their_ realm. It is less real than the mortal realms, but what damages your dream-self affects your physical body a little. Unless you die, of course.-_

"Of course." The girl echoed sarcastically. "This is all stuff I learned at my mother's knee. It all makes _perfect _sense, especially the part about make-believe badgers saving my life from angry chaos demons, and claws and stuff appearing in my room!" She realised her voice had risen angrily and stopped, glancing uneasily at the door. The badger rolled its eyes.

_-The mage is teaching you to meditate, correct?-_

"Yes, but…" Daine started, annoyed at the animal's superior attitude… and worried that she was having a conversation with a figment of her imagination yet again. The badger huffed impatiently.

_-Well, when you meditate, it's the same thing. It teaches mortals to separate themselves from their bodies, although most people realise how idiotically_ dangerous_ that is and stay in their own skins. The boundaries between the worlds are weak at the moment, so it's possible for you to pass through. But why did you go to the Chaos Realms? What a stupid thing to do!-_

"Are you yelling at me? You can't yell at me, I'm imagining you!" Daine threw a pillow at the badger, missed, and shut her eyes. "Go away!"

_-Don't be more foolish than you can help. You didn't imagine **me**.- _The Badger sniffed in disgust at the idea of being a mere figment of imagination. _-Anything you summoned in their realm exists, or has existed, in other realms. They cannot create things, they can only change or destroy them. Their realm has to follow their laws.-_

"So what realm do grumpy talking badgers come from?"

_-Be quiet and listen. I couldn't kill the chaos demon. What attacked you was only a part of it- I think it might have a mortal host. But it means that it'll keep coming back.-_

"And when he does, he's going to be angry, right?" Daine frowned at the badger and climbed out of bed, fetching her clothes absently as soft light filtered through the dusty window. "So I should somehow avoid sleeping until you find this host?"

The badger looked surprised. _–Me? Who said anything about me? I can't interfere! Unfortunately.- _He added, glancing towards the ceiling apprehensively. Daine followed his gaze, saw nothing but a few cobwebs, shrugged, and pulled a tunic over her head.

"Fine then, can you tell me who this _host_ is? And maybe how to stop Scul killing me the next time I fall asleep? Or does that count as interfering?"

_-I don't know who he is. But you could find out…-_

"How?"

_-Ask the demon.-_

Daine stared at him, then started to laugh helplessly. "Should I do that before or after he rips me to shreds? And you called _me _foolish!"

_-If he didn't have a use for you, you'd already be dead. They don't take trespassers lightly. You could also use that claw…- _The badger suddenly stopped and looked desperately back towards the ceiling. Before Daine could ask what was wrong, he had disappeared in a glare of silver light.

Daine blinked at the claw, shrugged, and slipped it into her pocket. Muttering to the world about rude badgers and stupid plans, she left her room to seek out some breakfast.

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The kitchens were cold and dark- no-one had lit the stoves yet, and the main fire had sunk down to the last glowing embers. Daine threw some straw on the embers, making a small flame, and slowly added more coal until a decent fire was burning there. She hated the cold almost as much as Alanna, and wasn't at all used to it. Even in a thick cloak and her scarf, she was still freezing. Being careful not to wake the kitchen maid, who was sleeping by the embers, she searched the kitchen, found a bread roll, and ate it while she was warmed by the blaze. Absentmindedly, she saw a tangle of string on the mantel, and started to unravel it.

Half an hour later, the eight-year-old maid woke up, rubbed her eyes sleepily, looked up at the stranger, and nearly fell into the fire.

"Hello," said Daine, looking up from a tangle of string, "Did I frighten you?"

"N-no miss." The small girl whispered, turning pale. "I'm sorry I wasn't awake…" She trembled as Daine smiled at her.

"It's alright- you didn't have to wake up early just because I did! Do you want a roll?" She held out some more bread. The child flinched and ran out of the kitchen. Daine looked after her, puzzled, and turned back to the tangle of string.

By the time she had the knots out, the maid had returned. Daine smiled at her, and was met by the fierce scowl of the cook.

The woman looked angry- she looked like she had only woken up recently, and had dressed in a hurry. Her thin hair was untidy- hastily brushed and shoved under a cap. She was enormous- years of living in kitchens, sampling each dish, had taken their toll- although she wasn't fat. Her face was strongly defined with almost luminous blue eyes, their corners permanently turned down in a mocking expression. Her nose had been broken at some point, and was spread lavishly across her face. The tiny girl was hiding behind one of the formidable lady's voluptuous skirts. Daine stood up and bowed out of habit to the obvious matriarch of the kitchen.

"Good morning! Is something wrong?"

The cook glared at her and pushed past to the fire, poking it with an iron as if something was wrong with it. "What do you think you're doing? How dare you use your filthy magic against children?"

Daine gaped at her, dumbstruck, as the woman snatched the string from her hand and threw it in the fire, hurling a stream of abuse. The maid cowered and peered at Daine anxiously, looking terrified but curious. The cook's angry tirade never ceased- ugly blotches spread over her bloated nose. "We want none of your evil magic here! Go someplace else! Take your curse to Scanra, or to the Dark God's realms!"

Her confusion was replaced by anger. Daine's eyes narrowed. "You think that I curse people?"

"Everyone _knows_ that death follows you! They say you control a vicious wolf pack, and that you hunt people for your sport- you are no better than an animal! You are cursed!" The cook made a gesture with her hand- a protection against evil- and dragged the tiny maid in front of her. "And now you try to bewitch innocent children? What kind of monster are you?"

"I'm not…" Daine hesitated, trying to think of how to explain to this woman. The cook shoved the child out of the room and rounded on her, a sly look creeping across her features.

"You think you're safe just because the nobles protect you? My sister heard them talking in the inn, and they do not trust you either!"

"What?" Exclaimed the girl, "Wait- what did they say?" The cook smirked and ignored her.

"She heard everything about _you_!". Elsewhere in the house, sounds of people awakening began. The woman seemed to realise this, and lowered her voice to a hiss. "I warned the kitchen girls about your foul witchcraft, and I will tell everyone I meet how you are a murderer- how you're a spy- how you will betray us! The nobles will cast you out, and then you will be at _our_ mercy."

"I would never hurt a child." Daine said quietly, trying to calm this lady down. The cook scoffed.

"We have heard tales from the sailors! They say you kill as it pleases you- your emperor, your sister and even your baby _brother_, all in the space of an hour!"

"I didn't kill him!" Daine's temper snapped as hot tears ran down her cheeks. "I loved him! I didn't kill him!"

The cook looked wary, but triumphant at her comment having drawn blood. "Well, even if you didn't kill that one, you killed others for certain. You are still a murderer- and you will hang. _That _is what the nobles said about you. The king told the mages that you were a danger- because of all the people you killed. The nobles in the council are very… decisive… about what happens to _dangers_."

"I don't believe you." The girl whispered. The cook smirked, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of righteous hate and sadistic glee.

"Ask anyone in the street- they will tell you the same." Her mocking laughter turned into a frightened shriek as Daine quickly transformed into a starling, flying out of a broken window pane.


	10. Chapter 8: Oh What a Tangled Web!

888

Forest

Chapter 8: Oh, What a Tangled Web

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The cool morning breeze cooled her temper slightly, brushing through her pin feathers as she circled further and further away from the city. Not knowing exactly what she was doing, or where she was headed, Daine forced the human world from her mind as she explored the coast, habitually examining any landmarks and buildings as she passed them. The cold breeze from the sea issued a challenge as she adapted from the warm thermals of Carthak, adjusting her flight pattern to suit a new sky.

Every time the conversation arose in her mind she found something else to think about- the whereabouts of other starlings, roosting spots, and Numair's plan to fly across the ocean, until she ran out of thoughts. The sharp pain of the cook's words dulled to a mind numbing ache as she began to turn the conversation over and over in her mind.

It was just as she had foreseen- just as it had been in Galla, and in Carthak. The sidelong looks, the fear in people's eyes as they caught her own gaze. In Carthak, it went no further than the fear- the protection of the Emperor and the isolation of a slave stopping the jeers, the accusations, the hatred…

In Galla, they had tried to kill her.

Why had she expected Tortall to be any different? Daine idly glided along a headland as she thought about it. Perhaps it was because she thought no-one would find out. She had agreed to stay and help in the war, but she could have been an archer or a healer's assistant- both things she'd practiced a lot as a child. The demands on her to use her magic were as good as gone, if only she could shake the habit. Just as she could stop listening to conversations, or singling out the most gullible person and convincing them to speak to her, or scanning rooms as she entered them…

She realized how tired and cold her wings were becoming, and looked around for a place to rest for a while. She saw a likely copse at the same time as she saw the herd of Spidren. Her gasp emerged as a strangled peep as she wheeled above them.

Over fifty of the grotesque spider-people had gathered in the copse, using its cover and density as a perfect meeting ground. The grass and trees glistened with sickly yellow-green web for nearly a mile around the group as they talked, sniggered and brandished arms emphatically.

Daine swooped down and inched along a branch, trying to hear what they were speaking of. She avoided the sticky greenish web, although the soft, cloth-like webbing was everywhere. The Spidren's harsh voices grated on her ears. A sudden squeal of laughter made her jump as she tried to edge around a strand of web. As she tried to move on, she realized that one foot had stuck in webbing. The whole thread shook as she tugged against it.

"Well well, what have I caught in my web?" A smiling face loomed above her, the pleasant expression making its blood-crusted mask more hideous. The smile faded slightly as it looked at her. "Oh, a _bird_. How disappointing. Not more than a mouthful, are you my pet?"

A second face appeared, this one male and grinning. "Such a tasty little morsel! Look at it struggle!"

"Piss off, Duon, it's _mine!" _The first face snarled, spraying greasy brown spit onto Duon's face. Duon growled deep in his throat, wrapping a spindly arm around the female's throat. With a roar, the two creatures began to fight. Gleefully, several other nearby Spidren joined in the brawl. Praying that a stray arm wouldn't come near her, Daine tried again to struggle free. Her foot was well and truly stuck. She began to change into a snake, figuring that they didn't have feet and so couldn't have one stuck in web.

"What's this all about?" Shrieked a third Spidren, thundering into the clearing. The brawl stopped abruptly. If Spidren could look cowed, these ones did.

"Duon tried to steal a bird I caught, sir." Muttered the female. Duon struggled to his many feet, having obviously received the worse end of the fight.

"She's lying! It's my bird!"

The third Spidren- evidently a leader- peered into the web and glared at the two brawlers. "It's not a bird. Are you so stupid you can't tell the difference? It's a snake!"

"A snake? It is a bird!" Duon spat a broken tooth to the ground. "Are you saying I'm blind? You think I'm stupid?"

"Or maybe you think _I'm _blind?" The female spidren reared. "You and your high and mighty ways! Just because the Rancune speaks to you!"

Daine flinched and stared at the three creatures, frozen into place. The leader spider spat on the floor at the mention of the name, but the tremor in his words belied the action. "The man means nothing to me. He is a stupid mortal with more power than sense." The spidren licked his lips nervously and glanced at the sky. Feeling the eyes of his pack on him, he glared around. The female snarled as he looked at her.

"You coward. You would have us all follow this man to our deaths! We should kill him, and let the Stormwings foul his bones!"

The leader roared at her and reared, sending bright yellow thread coursing at the errant spidren. She screeched and raised her forelegs to block it, writhing as the acidic thread began to eat rapidly through the delicate limbs and her exposed face. The leader span around on two sets of hind legs, his spinneret exposed. The pack of spidren hissed as they backed away.

"Does anyone _else _have anything to say?" The leader's voice was far too soft. Daine wanted him to yell, to shout at them, to do anything to block out the female's awful screams. She tugged against the web again, but now the end of her tail was trapped.

The remaining spidren backed away, trying to look as nonchalant as they could. Duon remained, looking dispassionately at the twitching body of the female on the ground. The leader spun to look at him. "Well?"

"I am not blind or a fool. Since you are more powerful than me, perhaps you can explain how the bird became a snake?" Sarcasm dripped from his mouth, along with globules of blood from his broken tooth.

"It was always a snake. You and this lump of meat were mistaken" The leader sniffed dismissively and kicked the female's dead body towards the nearest group of his followers. They ripped it apart with gusto as Duon gestured at the branch.

"Why does this snake have bird footprints?"

Daine-the-Snake glanced frantically around, suddenly realising that there were many prints in the softer, spongy web on the branch. Duon's eyes narrowed at the movement. "And why does it understand us?"

_Oops. _Daine thought.

"What?" The leader looked around abruptly. "You're right. It must be a spy!"

"Shall we kill it?"

The leader considered the snake, who was looking altogether too innocent and…snakelike... among the clawed prints. A greedy gleam came into his eyes. "Let's wait, and see if it becomes another creature. Something more substantial."

_Oh, the hell with it. _Daine cursed mentally and formed her own mouth, trying to keep it as invisible as possible. "Perhapss you will talk witthh me first?" She hissed.

The leader hardly raised an eyelid, although Duon jumped a little. "Perhaps. What shall we speak of?"

"Thhe Rancune."

The Spidren's face changed dramatically. His eyes widened as he glanced first at the sky, then at the remains of the female. Abruptly, he grabbed Duon by the back of his head, towing him away from the branch and out of earshot. The bleeding Spidren complained, but lost interest quickly. The leader returned more slowly to the branch.

"You are not the snake god- I have met him. Who are you?" He demanded. Daine considered for a moment, then shifted back in to her human form. To her annoyance, her foot was _still _stuck in the web. The spidren watched the change through slits of eyes, his expression unreadable.

"Please will you…free my foot? I want to talk to you." She said honestly. The spidren didn't take the bait a second time, but glared at her furiously.

"You're just one of his slaves! You're not a spy, or a mage. You're a mortal…_nobody_! Why should I help you?" He sounded nearly relieved. Daine gaped at him.

"I'm not a slave! And I just want to talk!"

The creature leaned forward and tapped the metal collar with a clawed arm, each tap making her head ring. "I saw his slaves marked with these. No-one else wears them."

"You mean… _Ozorne's _the Rancune? But he's dead!"

She was regarded dispassionately. "I have never heard the name 'Ozorne'. The Rancune is the Rancune. He's not dead. I'm certain of that, because I'm going to kill him myself." Suddenly, he reached up, ripped the piece of web and pulled her down from the tree, hurling her into another web like a piece of straw. "We will take you back to the Rancune when we have finished the task he set us. I've heard that he kills runaway slaves just with those collars. I would love to see that! Might capture some new slave-friends for you in that port too, little snake! My people are hungry, after all." He grinned maliciously. "Sleep well, little snake."

"Wait! What task? What…?" Daine called after him as he climbed away. He didn't answer. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she took stock of the situation. She was well and truly stuck, with only one arm free from the sticky muck. Back to square one, in fact.

_At least this web is kind of warm. _She thought, making a makeshift blanket out of the soft, not-sticky parts of the web. The Spidren had all gathered in the next clearing as the leader spoke emphatically to them, gesturing frequently back to her. Screams drifted on the winter breeze as several of the creatures apparently disagreed with what he was saying, but eventually they all drifted away out of site.

Daine shape-shifted her ears to sensitive cat ears, listening to all the Spider-people's conversations and making sure they came no closer. She gritted her teeth, desperately trying to think of some way to escape. Shape shifting didn't work…

Her frantic thoughts settled on what the Badger had told her, only hours ago. Meditation separated the spirit from the body, right? Maybe she could send her spirit away and find someone to help, or just warn someone that the spidren were here. But the Spidren might realise what she was doing.

_They're going to kill you anyway. Might as well try. _She thought.

Biting her lip, Daine glanced at the clearing. The leader Spidren had settled down to guard, hanging grotesquely from a web. Every so often, he would open an eye warily and scan the area. Daine turned her face away from him, pretending to sleep.

Her breathing settled easily into the meditation pattern. At first she couldn't clear her mind, fear of falling asleep and meeting Scul crippling her thoughts. It was mid-morning before she felt tranquil enough to try to leave her body.

She fixed her eyes on the edge of the copse, and ordered herself to go _there. _

It didn't work.

Groaning in desperation, she tried to mentally drag herself away from the web. After this also failed, she tried to work out what she was doing wrong. She was meditating right, wasn't she?

As she checked herself, she realised that Numair had taught her to look inside herself as she meditated. Maybe she should be looking outside? She took a deep breath, checked the Spidren again, and began to meditate. Instead of the copper wellspring of power she usually found, she looked for trees, bushes, grass…

Something _shifted_, and suddenly she was outside her body. All the trees and stones shone iridescently. She lifted her hands and saw they were outlined in copper, a warm light that shifted as she looked at it. Smiling victoriously, she took a step forward…

…and was suddenly, violently pulled back inside her own skin. Shaking with the shock of it, she broke out of her mediation. As the beautiful lights faded, she saw a patch of sickly black ooze around her feet, binding her to herself.

_That looks like… _Daine grabbed Scul's claw out of her pocket and tried to concentrate on it. The nauseating colours were infused with the dark aura. Disgusted, she threw the thing away from her.

The second time she saw the coloured lights, she looked for the darkness. There was nothing like it near her. Hesitantly, she took a step away from her body, then another.

As she left the clearing, she took a look back at the Spidren. He was coated in living, oozing darkness. It saturated everything he touched, dripping off the web and extinguishing the beauty of the grass. On the web near her body, the claw was exuding its own darkness in a slowly spreading pool. Feeling sick, Daine fled.


	11. Chapter 9: Repercussions

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Forest

Chapter 9: Repercussions 

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Daine ran with surprising ease, her feet barely touching the ground. Trees, streams and dilapidated buildings all sped past in flashes of bright colour, but as yet she could see no people or animals to speak to.

As she got nearer to the city, a burst of aquamarine light nearly blinded her. The sea glistened in the low winter sunlight, nearly blinding her with its beauty. She smiled, lost in the delight of the colours, and slowed to a walk to catch her breath.

_This must have been what Danny could see, all the time! _She thought in awe. She gazed again at the rich water, seeing a boat sailing on it, and the bronze of gulls wheeling above it. A purple speck on the deck must be Alanna, sailing home. Daine's smile faded as she realised she might never see the woman again. She hadn't even said goodbye. Would the Lady think that she didn't care?

With new determination, she started running again. She reached the city remarkably quickly, and realised that she'd crossed miles in under ten minutes. Wondering if the Spidren had noticed her absence, or just thought she was asleep, she walked under the wall gate.

The first person she saw was the gate guard, a wizened old man whose sole purpose in life was to ring a bell if he saw danger entering the city. He was lounging in a broken rocking chair, cleaning his nails with a dagger and whistling off-key. Daine ran up to him.

"Um, excuse me?" She said.

The man's whistle did not falter for a second as he sheathed the dagger in his boot and began to examine the contents of a nostril with a grubby finger. Daine winced and tried again, touching his shoulder to gain his attention. To her horror, her hand passed right through his arm.

The man shivered slightly, and scratched the shoulder.

Daine backed away, unnerved, and decided to try someone else. She walked through the streets, talking to anyone she met and getting no response. Most people shivered as she walked past, pulling cloaks and shawls closer as if she were a chill breeze. Desperately, she stood in the middle of the market and screamed "Can _anybody_ hear me?"

Nearby, a woman with a green aura jumped and nearly slipped over on the pavement. She glanced frantically around and gasped when Daine hopefully touched her sleeve.

"Can you hear me, Ma'am?" Daine asked hopefully. The woman made the sign against evil repeatedly as she backed against a wall.

"Go away, foul spirit! I've done nothing wrong!" The woman whispered, blocking her ears. Daine tried to pull the hands away without any success.

"I'm not trying to hurt you!" She cried, "I just need you to listen to me!"

The woman shivered as Daine pulled on her hands, the flesh turning blue with cold. Abruptly, she stood up straight and pushed her hands in front of her, summoning green fire. Daine shrieked in surprise and backed away from the Gift.

"Go away, go away, go away!" The woman whispered, with her hands shaking. Daine stared at her in shock, and then looked away. Already, curious bystanders were rushing towards the woman, thinking she was having a fit. Strong drinks and medical aid were offered, each person's tone respectful. Hearing the woman addressed as "Healer Sarah", Daine understood- the woman was probably the resident mage of the port. Maybe only mages could hear her?

She looked at the long walk to the building where Numair was staying and sighed, realising how tired she was. As she rubbed her eyes, she realised her hands were slightly more transparent than they had been half an hour ago, when she'd started out. When she rested her forehead on her palm, she could feel the icy cold that she was generating. Worried to waste any more time, she started towards the building.

She passed the Royal Guard with no trouble, and was only slightly surprised when she walked through the heavy wood of the door with no effort. She guessed that Numair would still be asleep, and headed quickly for his room.

Hesitantly, she walked through his door. To her surprise, he wasn't asleep- he was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire and meditating. The aura of his black gift crackled in the Spirit Realm as loudly as the fire did in the mortal domain. She reached out to touch his arm, to wake him, but couldn't will herself to go near the black fire.

"Numair?" She said, shocked with how quiet and weak her voice had become. She could scarcely hear herself, and when she looked again at her hands there was only a bare copper outline. Scared, she instinctively grabbed at the Mage.

"Numair? Please, please wake up." She pleaded.

The lanky man's eyes flew open with alacrity, fixing instantly on the copper shadow that was gripping his arm. "Daine? What's wrong? Why are you…" he took in her insubstantiality and fear crossed his eyes. "What in Mithros' name do you think you're _doing_?"

"Oh! You can see me!" Daine smiled her relief and spoke as loudly as she could. "Look, I have to tell you, there's a group of Spidren about five miles from here, lots of 'em. Nearly a hundred. They're planning something, I don't know what. But you're all in danger!"

"_We're_ in danger?" The mage raised his hands in frustration. "Daine, you have to get back to your body _right now_!"

"You have to _listen_! They said something about the Rancune planning something, and making people into s-slaves, and killing people- you should tell Jonathan!" Daine yelled, annoyed at him for ignoring her. The mage fixed his dark eyes on her, and nodded yes, but dismissed the Spidren with a wave of his hand as he regarded her. Whatever he saw added pain to his already shadowed eyes.

"Daine, can't you see that you're dying?" He said quietly, as if afraid to scare her away.

The girl blinked at him. "I'm just tired, Numair." She said reassuringly, sitting down in front of the fire and willing her frozen hands to warm. "I had to come all the way from the woods, so I walked a long way."

"What the hell were you doing there in the first place?" He yelled, obviously wanting to shock her out of her calm. "And, you could have flown here! Why did you sever your spirit? Didn't anyone tell you how dangerous that is?"

"Well, yes…" Daine muttered dubiously, "The Badger told me, but I thought he meant only the Chao- um, the other realms were dangerous." She cursed mentally for mentioning Chaos to someone she wanted to trust her. Absently, she shook her head, trying to stop the vague dizziness.

Numair didn't notice her slip of the tongue in his agitation. "Daine, when you do that you're cutting off everything that nourishes your soul! One of the reasons the Gods barricaded the Realms was so that if a mortal had to go there, the Gods would know, and could sustain their spirit form. If you don't have anything helping you, then your spirit will die!"

"But…" Daine started, then realised that she'd never been alone in any of the other realms the Badger told her she'd severed her spirit in. The Badger had said that the only reason she hadn't died in the Chaos realm was because Scul wanted her to live- was he keeping her alive? And everyone knew that Ganiel stood ever the dream realms…

Her mind spun suddenly as she looked at Numair. The way he spoke… she had heard it before. Her already frozen spine chilled as she remembered- it was the way he had spoken to Katryn.

Her spinning mind settled on the memory, replaying it vividly.

_She crouched at the end of a hallway. Around her, frozen spikes of flame stood five feet high, their savagery distorted by the magical shield that surrounded her. But she could hear every word perfectly, as Katryn hurled insults and spells at the man who had stopped her from killing Daine. _

_Flames licked from the woman's hands and eyes in the colour of her gift, burning her life away. All her insane rage was directed at Numair as he defended himself from spell after spell. Irate, Katryn had screamed at him, demanding that he fight her. Numair had stood still, looking at her calmly (although Daine later realized how much he pitied her, even then,) and said,_

"_You're pouring you life into your gift. Already it is consuming you- if you do not stop using your gift, it will destroy you. I do not need to fight you- you will die anyway." _

She hadn't listened, and she had died. Daine suddenly realised that she wanted very much to live. Fear strengthened her resolve as she nodded.

"Yes…You're right. I'll go back. The Spidren are in a circular copse, about five miles North from here, I think I said…?" She stood up shakily and headed for the door, thinking that even as tired as she was, she might make it back to the clearing in twenty minutes.

"You won't make it." The anger had cleared from the Mage's face, replaced by naked fear. "You're fading…"

"I'll try anyway. No choice, really, is there?" She grinned uncertainly and turned again toward the door. She was halfway down the hallway when she heard her name being called. She turned to see Numair had caught up with her. He held out a hand that was entirely black fire. Surprised, she realised that he must have severed his own spirit.

"Take some of my energy." He said desperately. Daine glanced at him and shook her head wearily, imperceptibly backing away from the magic that embraced the offered hand.

"You said yourself it's dangerous. And it wouldn't be right- I can't take anything from you. I'll get back alright, I'm sure." The tremor in her voice was barely noticeable as she turned away. "But, thank you…"

"Are you more scared of magic than you are of death? Stop arguing with me!" Numair reached out and grabbed her almost invisible hand. Instantly, magic flared copper and black around their interlocked fingers, flowing up the girl's arm.

Daine weakly tried to pull away, scared of the Gift he was using. Numair held on to her tightly, his black eyes determined, feeling how freezing cold her spirit was. In spite of the amount of magic she was receiving, Daine's form was still pale and insubstantial. Any arguments she had were inaudible. Slowly, she raised her other hand and offered it to him.

He took the hand, leaned forward, and kissed her. Daine gasped as raw power streamed through her, warming her completely and banishing the weariness that had been crushing her. The copper-black light built around them and slowly faded, until they broke the kiss and it died away.

Daine smiled shyly. "I like this kind of magic." She said, strength back in her voice. Numair matched her smile, but concern was still in his eyes as he looked at her.

"You need to get back as quickly as you can, now. Before this runs out too. I'll tell Jon about the Spidren and meet you there as soon as I can. I promise."

Daine nodded and hugged the mage. "Thank you." She whispered in his ear, then abruptly let him go and sped away.


	12. Chapter 10: Returned Sticky Situation

A/N: For the record, I am not at all happy with this chapter. I know what I want to say, but can never really work out how. :P It's decent as it is, but it might undergo a major re-format between now and Chapter 12. Be warned.

Thank you all for your kindness and reviews!

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Forest

Chapter 10: It's sensible to argue when you're surrounded by enemies. Really. 

Or: The return of the sticky situation

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As soon as Daine opened her eyes, the trees spun frighteningly around her. All the sickness she had felt as a spirit was returned tenfold to her physical form. She tried to move, to cradle her aching head, and remembered that she was well and truly stuck as she was for the moment. Warily, she glanced towards the guard Spidren- who was gone. She blinked in confusion, hoped fervently that they hadn't already launched their attack, and closed her eyes again to make the spinning stop.

The run back had been more difficult than the outward journey, and slower, but she had made it. By the time she reached the woods, she was doubled up with a stitch in her side, and almost as tired as she had been before, when she was… dying.

Fear drove her through the trees to her body. Once she reached the web, she stood and looked down at her unnaturally still body. It was barely breathing, past caring about the winter cold that was turning its fingertips blue.

_I look dead… _Daine had whispered in shock to herself. Cautiously, she reached out and touched her own hand. To her amazement, the body actually felt solid to her. As soon as she made contact, the sensation of being _pulled_ returned. With a sickening jolt, she slammed back into the mortal realm.

_I have to get out of here. _She thought desperately, pulling at the web with her free hand. The movement sent a wave of nausea through her. Retching, she stopped and tried to lie as still as possible.

Watching the leaves spin above her, Daine tried to think of anything she hadn't already tried to get out. Snow clouds built above the trees ominously, making her wonder if the webs would melt in the wet. She wished she had her belt knife, so she could try and cut the threads…

Absently, she wondered if Scul or the Badger would know how to get out. She dismissed the idea of falling asleep to ask them, giggling at a mental image of Scul's many feet tied into a knot, while the Badger's grumpy voice was silenced by threads typing his muzzle to his claws.

Claw… frowning, Daine looked around cautiously for the discarded talon, wondering if she could use _that _to cut through the strands. It was laying an arm's reach away. To her normal eyes, the dark ooze the claw produced was invisible, although that didn't make her feel any less queasy as she picked it up. Trying to shake off the horrible feeling that the thing was wrapping dark tendrils back around her hand, she put the serrated edge to the strand that held her other arm, and sawed at it. The thread was like wire. Daine gritted her teeth and kept sawing.

"Break, damn it!" She hissed at the web. Instantly, the strand fell brittle and snapped. Daine gaped at the claw and touched it to another piece of web.

"Break." She said clearly. This time the web snapped with hardly any pressure at all. Uneasily, she snapped all the threads she could find, and tried to inch away from the web. Delighted, she realised she was free. Careful not to tread on any other threads, she made her way dizzily across the clearing and sat down against a dead tree stump, staring at the claw. Puzzled as to how it had stayed with her when usually she would lose everything when she shape shifted, and incredulous that it had snapped the threads so easily, she placed it against the tree.

"Grow…?" She asked it, embarrassed. The tree seemed to shiver, and suddenly rotted away behind her, falling into powder and mould. Daine grimaced and dusted off her hands. Why would the Badger tell her to keep a horrible, oozing…thing that could only destroy?

A flash of white interrupted her from her thoughts. Cautiously, listening for the strangely absent Spidren, she glanced into the next clearing and immediately wished she hadn't.

A deep pit in the ground echoed strange noises into the forest. Glistening green web was thrown around carelessly, making an impenetrable barrier. Stuck in the web were skeletons of birds, wolves and- Daine smothered a gasp- humans. The skeletons continued deep into the cave, as if the creatures wanted a meal close to them as they dug. The deeper in the tunnel Daine looked, the fresher were the bodies.

Various piles of clothes, jewellery and weapons were next to each human skeleton, thrown away as they got in the way of the meal. The smell was unbearable; a sweet, rotten scent of fear and death. Daine inched towards one of the nearest heaps and took some clothes, muttering a silent apology to the dead person's spirit as she dressed herself and took their dagger out of the skeletal hand, destroying the web that bound it to the ground. Feeling better armed and less dizzy for the warmth and protection of the simple leather clothes, she crept uneasily into the tunnel. It reminded her of something…

The sides of the tunnel were clumsily propped up with random branches, with rock falls between them. Every so often there was a rough route upwards, towards light. Every one of these entrances led into a building- Daine guessed this was where the bodies had come from. Quietly, she climbed back into the tunnel and headed back towards the forest, not wanting to go any nearer the Spidren she could hear at the end of the passage.

As silently as she could, she headed for the outside edge of the forest and sat in the cover of a rock, waiting for Numair to arrive. Yawning, she pulled the folds of the overlarge tunic around her as a makeshift blanket, and tried to find a soft spot on the solid rock to lean against. Despite her weariness, her traitorous mind kept dwelling on that brief moment with Numair. Blushing to herself in confusion, she savagely told herself to stop acting like a fool.

_He only kissed me to make that spell work. _She thought firmly. _And I acted like a stupid… lovesick fool! He saved my life, and I probably embarrassed him for it! Now, I bet the first time he mentions it will be an apology… _

_But the spell worked fine without it. _Reasoned a more persistent part of her mind. Daine shifted against the rock, finding a patch of moss that cooled her aching head. _The spell didn't work that quickly, though, and he knew there was no time… _she conceded logically, and decided that yes, that was what had happened. She curled up against the moss and tried to sleep, suppressing the chaos in her mind.

_Why do I feel so confused about this? _She thought suddenly, waking herself up. _A few weeks ago I'd have thought nothing of it. It's not like I haven't been kissed before. Kat and I used to gain information for Ozorne any way we could. And kissing someone as a spy is probably about as personal as making a spell work. _

_But none of them cared two coppers about you. _The traitor half of her mind whispered again. _They were just using you. If you had told them that you would make it back on your own, they would have let you take the chance. _

_I think the problem is: he didn't have to help me, but he did. Why would he do that? What does he want in return? I don't understand!_

_He did it because he cares for you. Because he's your friend! _The traitor thought said triumphantly. _Don't complicate things just because you think you owe him something. He will only ever ask you to be a friend, nothing more." _

"A friend?" Daine smiled as she ended the internal conversation out loud. "I'd like that."

Having convinced herself that the kiss was just part of a spell cast by a mere friend, she curled up more peacefully and managed to settle her thoughts.

Within a minute, she was asleep.

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As a rule, the first thing a person says when they are shaken awake is "Where am I?" That night, Daine's stubborn streak rebelled against this unconsciously. She forced her eyelids open, her brown eyes confused and distant, and muttered, perplexingly, "That was strange…"

The person who had shaken her awake grabbed her shoulder urgently. "You're not hurt, are you?" There was a sigh of relief as she shook her head, blinking her eyes to try and see in the moonless night. Still half caught in her dream, she focused on the man's face.

"Numair? What are you doing here? Where are the Runners?" In the confused silence, she stared into the night sleepily, her voice a tired singsong. "There's nothing here, just the endless darkness and the… the…"

"If we had a light, the Spidren would see us." Numair said sharply, "Wake up!"

"Spidren…? The Spidren!" Daine's eyes widened as she woke up fully. "They're digging a tunnel! I don't know why, though. They came up in the middle of people's houses and _ate_ them. The tunnel is full of bodies…" She shook her brown curls out of her eyes and sat up straight, her legs cramping from being curled under her for hours. "I bet they're planning to dig right under the port's defences. And they might have noticed that I'm not there any more, so they might be on their guard."

"How do you know that, about the tunnel? I couldn't even get past the webs." Numair's dark eyes narrowed as Daine considered her answer. "Don't tell me one of your stories, either. You're a bad liar."

"Who put a bee in your bonnet?" Daine retorted, stung. The mage glared at her.

"You did! You had me worried sick! You've taken the most stupid risks possible, and you won't even tell me why! You disappear without telling anyone, and conveniently reappear in places where there is danger only _you_ seem to know about.

"You speak to Spidren as if they knew something vital, you find out secrets they would kill to keep, but of all the people in Tortall they do not harm you! You don't know anything about this Rancune, or the Spidren, but they all seem to recognise you… You're still acting like a spy! Why do I trust you?"

He realised his voice had risen and glanced warily at the trees not far away, then back at Daine. She sat quite calmly, keeping her face carefully blank as she waited for him to finish. An emotion like regret passed over her eyes and she looked away briefly, but her voice was coldly composed.

"I didn't disappear, I ran away."

"From what?" He snapped, and instantly wanted to kick himself. Daine's icy composure slipped.

"From everything! Before I left, I was just about to get lynched by a cook because she had heard somewhere that _I_ was the one who killed my family. No-one would have blamed her for it- they all think the same. I have no money or name to hide behind, I can't shape shift in case it scares someone- I had more freedom as a slave!

"And now you're yelling at me for keeping secrets? Why didn't you tell me about the Nobles, or about them thinking I'm a _threat?" _Daine noticed him flinch, but took no satisfaction from it. She forced herself to calm down, realising that she was cold, dew-covered and sore, and was taking it out on someone who was probably feeling just as bad. He had only yelled at her because she hadn't explained anything to him, after all. "Secrets are important. You've been a spy. I thought you'd understand." She whispered.

"I'm sorry." The mage said quietly, staring at the ground. "You're right. I thought that if you knew about the Nobles, you would leave. I couldn't stand the thought of you going back to Carthak…"

An uneasy silence spread between them. Abruptly, the girl stood up and walked around the rock, adapting her eyes to a cat's so she could see what the spider-creatures were doing. As far as she could tell, they were all still in the tunnel, digging.

_I must have arrived there in their one and only break time. _She thought wryly. Behind her, she heard the mage stand up.

"Daine?"

"I'll tell you everything. As soon as we finish here. Can you think of a way we can stop the Spidren?" Daine asked quietly. Numair tugged on his nose, his expression slowly brightening as they settled back into their old, familiar friendship.

"No, there's too many of them. But the tunnel could be collapsed quite easily." He smiled and rubbed his hands together. Daine frowned thoughtfully, scuffing the ground with one foot.

"It would work… as long as you could collapse all the other tunnels with it."

Numair looked up at her, surprised. "I only saw the one- where are the others?"

Daine pointed east, towards the coastline. "They're natural caves, in the cliffs. Merchants use them for getting less… visible… wares to the ships- I know of at least two that go between warehouses in the docks to the coast, and there's likely more. Carthak probably wasn't the only country to send smugglers to this dock."

Numair looked absently in that direction, unable to see anything in the dark, and glanced back at her. "Daine, I've stayed at this port many times, and I've never heard of these Merchant tunnels. Whoever is controlling the Spidren won't know about them either- or else why get them to dig another tunnel? And closing a cliff-face may damage the port, or…"

"Why can't the third tunnel be a decoy?" Daine saw that the man still looked ready to dismiss the idea. "The Rancune knows those tunnels exist. I'm absolutely certain of it! I know who he is!"


	13. Chapter 11a: Altered Perspective

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Forest

Chapter 11a: Altered Perspective

(Another short chapter. Annoying, but necessary.

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The Rancune jumped, spilling his drink on the elaborate embroidered tunic. Dark shadows under his eyes became even more stark as his face paled. One of the many slaves that surrounded him leaned forward, false concern written on her face.

"What's wrong, sir? Are you ill?" Her eyes travelled nervously to the glass in his hand, where fine cracks were radiating from his clenched fist. The man slammed the glass onto the table, where it shattered.

"Get out!" He screamed, finding his voice again. "Now!" He barely noticed as the slaves fled, staring furiously at the splintered glass. His head throbbed.

That bitch! How had she managed to evade the listening spell on the collar? For the last hour, she had been as silent as the dead, and suddenly she knew so much? And she had obviously spoken to the mage during that silence. Hastily he checked the listening spell, but it was as strong as it had been when he'd cast it.

He'd been furious when Scul had ordered him to cast the spell. He'd surrendered his soul to the chaos, flattered into thinking that he was important by their persistence and the offers of power that he was shown in his dreams. And as soon as he'd said yes, they had demanded that he spend his time and magic spying on this girl, and on making her life more chaotic.

First, he had agreed happily, pleased to be able to punish her for her destruction of Carthak, the way she destroyed all the power he had there in one night. A slave! He grinned, and promised to make her suffer. Scul had snarled at his enthusiasm.

_"Fool! You can't just attack her! We need her to join us! She is the pivot in this war. If you walk up to her and hurt her on our behalf, she will never trust us!" _

_"That girl never trusted anyone." The Rancune had muttered sullenly. "She's a spy to the core." _

_To his surprise, the chaos demon had laughed: a horrid gurgling death rattle. "You don't know who she is, do you? Your petty importance is nothing compared to hers! You speak to mere kings- she speaks to Gods! But you're right- she does not trust them, either. Her dreams are as cynical as your loyalty. She could still be persuaded to join us. But as long as she doesn't fight us, it doesn't really matter." _

_"Gods?" The Rancune smirked disbelievingly. Scul's many eyes snapped in annoyance. _

_"I tire of you! You are to spy on the girl, let her know that she's being watched, but you are not to hurt her. If she begins to act against us, you will report. That is the order you are given." He oozed up to the man and glared at him, seeming to grow in the impenetrable darkness. Sharp talons and teeth gleamed. "Is that understood?" _

And so, he had watched and listened, sending spies and spells against her. First he acted with bitter indifference. The girl was surrounded by the most powerful people in Tortall, but as soon as they began to talk about anything interesting, she would leave. It was so frustrating! And nothing she did seemed to make sense!

One day she would be friendly, happy, and even childish. The next she would seem older than her eighteen years, watching everything with a cool cynicism and _never_ speaking her thoughts. Whenever someone asked for her opinion, she would evade them. The only time she told the truth was when the other person knew it already. In short, she was exactly the same as she had been in Carthak.

And yet…

She was different. There were brief moments when she let her guard down, when emotion ran through her voice. Several times, she had accidentally told one of her many secrets to the Rancune's prying ears. Slowly, he began to understand a little of how her mind worked. Each secret made him yearn for the next.

His indifference turned to interest, then obsession. Every intimate moment she experienced made him furious. He had slipped, once, wanting to make her suffer for each friendship, wanting her to know that she was vulnerable…wanting her to hear his voice, and know that he existed. He screamed at the other man, warning him off with the girl's pain.

Daine's voice had been rough for a day after. By the time Scul was finished with him, _he_ hadn't been able to speak for a week. Silence became a habit as he listened to every word she spoke, every breath she breathed, and fervently prayed that it would be her last.

Every night, Scul visited his dreams. Even as the Rancune watched Daine, Scul was inside his mind, reading every thought and emotion with increasing amusement. The mixture of obsessive desire and absolute hatred suited the Chaos demon perfectly, and he revelled in it. He taunted the man who had given him his soul, mentioning Daine's dreams as if to show that he, Scul, possessed something The Great Rancune did not. Every morning, Daine's actions showed the truth in Scul's smug descriptions, infuriating the Rancune even further.

Every night, Scul would bait his hatred, and every day the obsession would grow until the Rancune's mind was almost completely taken over. He sat in his luxurious room, straining to catch every word, drinking himself into unconsciousness at night to avoid Scul. His once handsome features became sallow and sunken, dark shadows ringed his eyes. He never spoke, and barely moved- every need tended to by a slave.

In insane rage, he had sent his Spidren troops against the port, wanting to destroy her and end it. To his surprise, Scul had approved of the attack- or the chaos it would surely create. Neither Daine nor the Spidren knew the attack was sent directly to punish her. And she had spoiled even that!

His mouth had dried expectantly as she had blundered into the Spidren camp, waiting for the tantalising sounds of her death. And because of the stupid leader's fear of him, they had only captured her. Furious at Daine's silence and the leader's incompetence, he had sent a blistering wave of heat straight at the Spidren, turning him to dust as he slept.

And now, suddenly, she knew too much- much more than even Scul had suspected.

But it wasn't that which sent a blistering ecstasy of rage through his body.

"I know who the Rancune is." She had said.

_Finally. _

If she knew who he was, she would try to find him. Every day she had known him, she had been wary, afraid of him. Now she knew he was still alive, she would try to confront her fear. She would try to fight him. His eyes burned with the ecstatic thought of watching the life drain from those beautiful dark eyes.

He would be ready.


	14. Chapter 11b: Random Encounters

A/N: Okay, I could have uploaded these two parts as one, but they work better for the pause. Hope it doesn't annoy anyone. What do you guys think?

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Forest

Chapter 11b: Random Encounters

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They worked swiftly, all too aware that dawn would bring the Spidren back out into the open. At every cave entrance they found, in the cliff and in the forest, they began making walls of rock. The walls would prop up the caves better than the wooden supports if they did try to collapse, but more importantly, they would stop or delay any Spidren that tried to escape. As each barricade was finished Numair whispered an arcane word, making the rocks melt into a solid wall.

They tracked back along the route of the forest tunnel towards the port, blocking up any of the roof-holes they could find. The stench of death grew stronger from each hole, with each house lying in various states of destruction. Eventually they heard the sounds of digging and saw dull torchlight from the nearest opening. Numair put a finger to his lips, silencing an already soundless Daine, and inched towards the hole. Around his hands, dark fire glittered.

Abruptly, he slammed his hands into the hole and released a torrent of fire. Inhuman screams and shrieks rose up from the hole as black smoke escaped. Swiftly, Daine ran forwards and blocked the air duct with a flat rock. She listened as the Spidren choked in the now airless tunnel without pity.

"Come on." Said Numair in a normal voice, his own eyes merciless, "We have another two tunnels."

The cliff face was more difficult to block. Although the ends of the tunnels were quite low to the sea, where slaves and goods could be dropped into longboats, the surrounding cliff face was crumbling and chalky. Daine grew long claws to help her climb down to them as Numair searched the land with a mage light for any more ventilation shafts.

Carefully, she climbed down to the nearest cave. It was hidden behind an overhang, invisible unless you knew where it was. Discarded chains and rope were lying around in the entrance, rotting in the salty dust. None of them looked new. Peering into the cave, Daine saw that a great portion of the wall had collapsed, blocking the tunnel completely. _Probably no-one's used this tunnel in years, _she thought climbing further down to the second tunnel.

As she got closer to the opening the rocks became more and more slippery. Waves, laden with broken branches and flotsam, crashed around the base of the cliff, making the walls shake heavily. The constant movement beneath her made Daine feel dizzy. Determinedly, she kept her face to the wall and felt for the cliff with her feet instead of looking.

That was why she slipped. One moment her foot was on solid rock, the next a shifting pile of seaweed. Frantically, she scrabbled at the wall with her claws, but the rock was too wet for a decent handhold. She fell forty feet into the icy winter sea.

The shock of cold hit her like a hammer, forcing all the breath out of her body in a single gasp. Her lungs burned as she plunged under the water, struggling not to breathe. Desperately, she struggled towards the surface, her frozen hands feeling like lead. She had barely gulped half a breath of air before the swirling current pushed her back under again.

She was torn between pushing herself to the surface and warding off rocks and debris when something grabbed hold of her ankle, yanking her up into the air where she could breathe. She gulped in air as she was pulled back up the cliff, too breathless to yell at Numair for using magic when he set her down at the top.

"You're welcome." He said wryly, interpreting her glare correctly. "Are you alright."

"Fine." Daine gulped. "T-Thanks." She caught her breath. "There are only two tunnels, and one's already blocked up. I don't know about the other one, yet."

"Well, there are no air shafts, and no other footprints around here. I doubt they're using this tunnel."

"We should block it anyway. Just in case." Daine replied, remembering the chains in the first tunnel with a shiver. She started to wring the water out of her clothes as he smiled his agreement and walked to the cliff edge.

This time he didn't summon any fire, there was no flash of the gift, the cliff just…melted. Great pools of rock gathered in the caves, eventually spilling out in deadly fountains. A cloud of steam rose from the sea as the molten rock flowed into it. Daine looked cautiously over the edge at the now smooth cliff face, which was now looking like an enormous chalk waterfall. She shivered again and turned away.

"Are you cold?" The genuine concern in the mage's voice made her smile. It was such a strange experience to have someone worried for her. She shrugged and returned the smile.

"I'm fine. The sun will be up in a few hours. Do you want to talk now?"

Numair glanced at the horizon, then at Daine, and shook his head slowly. "No… I'll be bound to have a thousand and one questions, and we're both tired enough as it is."

Daine smiled again, in thanks. "I'll go get some blankets and firewood from one of the houses, then." She didn't suggest that they stay in one of the houses- both remembered the palatable fear and death in the huts with a wince. Numair suggested that he start warding a camp over a slight rise from the cliff, where the fire wouldn't be visible from the sea.

Both hurried to their tasks, and had set up a decent camp within half an hour. They ate the almost-stale bread Daine had found in a hut quietly, both too tired to do anything but sleep. Daine curled up in her dusty blanket on the opposite side of the fire to Numair and wished him good-night.

"I'm sorry for… what happened earlier." He said by way of a reply. Daine smiled sleepily, eyes fluttering shut.

"I'm not." She whispered, and was fast asleep.


	15. Chapter 12: Exposition

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Chapter 12: Exposition

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"Kavan is the Rancune." Daine said, breaking a piece of bread off the loaf and offering it to Numair. Both watched the countryside as they ate, wary for Spidren that might have escaped.

"It's the only logical answer. I thought he might be when he used the collar. It was a trick he and Ozorne used to use a lot in Carthak. But I wasn't sure until I saw the tunnel. He used to brag about how useless defences are, and how he would just dig under them and surprise the enemy. When he taught us strategy, he used this port as a demonstration on how exactly to do that- since all three of us had been in this area before. It pretty much was exactly what just happened."

"But you were wrong about it." Numair said neutrally. "You thought the forest tunnel would be a decoy, but the only Spidren we saw were in it."

"I was thinking on that, too." The girl admitted, "But we were still quite a way from the port when we found the end of the tunnel. Perhaps the Spidren were to get close in the first tunnel before other forces just sailed up to the cliff? Then all three could attack at the same time."

"Maybe… it's sealed up now, anyway." Numair finger-combed his hair into neatness, frowning thoughtfully. "I always assumed Kavan was just a merchant, not a teacher."

"He was neither. He was a very strong mage at the university, but insubordinate. He could see magic, like Dan… like you can. He was supposed to teach all of us, but he spent most of his time with… with Danny, because he was the youngest." Daine bit her lip absently and added another piece of wood to the fire, staving off the morning ice.

"Basically, whatever he told us to do, we did. Katryn took to the fighting magic easily, and Danny didn't understand how evil magic is, so they were happy. But I… they brought me dying birds and animals that they'd found, or shot, so I could learn to shape shift into them. Sometimes they died while I was inside their mind. You can't imagine how that feels…

"I hated him. He hated_ me_. I thought that when I left Carthak it would be the end of it. I was sure he'd be glad never to see me again. I guess not."

"So he sent the Spidren after you." Numair stated, ignoring the unconscious jibe about 'evil magic'. "Why?"

"He didn't. I got stuck in one of the webs. They saw this collar and thought I was one of Kavan's runaways. They seemed quite scared of him." Daine hesitated and reached into a pocket, pulling out the claw and handing it to the mage. His eyes widened at the sight of it, but he kept silent and waited for her to speak. She chose her words carefully.

"This is how I got out of the webs. It belongs to…"

"Chaos." Numair murmured, entranced. He tugged his nose and put the claw down carefully on the ground, watching the colours in it with only a slight expression of disgust. "It looks like a drawing I saw of a tooth, in a book by a scientist called Vinti…or was it Saucero? He said he found a madman, who claimed to have been attacked by a Chaos Demon. How did you…?"

"Same way." Daine shrugged absently, dismissing the hurt, and described her encounters with Scul briefly, adding descriptions of the Runners, the Badger and explaining that since the fight, she had dreamed only of the empty darkness.

Numair was shocked, and very interested, but not disgusted with her, as she thought he might be. She finished her description rather quietly, and then added, "You're not angry with me?"

"For what? You didn't accept anything from Scul, did you?" He demanded, his expression darkening at the idea. Daine shook her head hastily.

"No, but… he said I was already Chaotic. I might already be working for them, and not know it. If he can see my dreams, maybe he can see my thoughts, or hear what I say. Maybe he can see what I can see. I'm worse than a spy. The nobles were right: I am a threat."

"Daine, what have you seen, heard or thought that could possibly threaten us?" The mage's voice was serious, but his expression was kind. Daine thought for a moment, but couldn't think of anything. A relieved smile crossed her face.

"Just don't tell me any state secrets until this is sorted out." She said, only half joking. Numair grinned.

"Deal."

"When should we go back to the port?" Daine asked, shading her eyes to look at the sun and judge the time. Numair hesitated.

"We're not going back. We've been sent on a mission."

"A mission?" Daine looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "What kind of a mission?" Despite the confusion on her face, she didn't look surprised in the slightest. Numair looked at her too-innocent expression and grinned.

"You've already worked it out!"

Daine shook her head absently and began throwing dirt on the fire, putting it out and hiding the ashes. When she noticed the knowing expression on the man's face, she grinned and abandoned the exercise.

"Alright," She said, "We're flying somewhere, across the sea. I would guess the Copper Isles, since if we go anywhere else we'll be killed, but since they've been pretty selfish in every other war that's ever happened, I don't imagine we'd have anything of use to do there.

"But there are lots of outlaws and bandits in the Copper Isles, right? So if we went there by stealth, we could recruit as many as we could to fight for Tortall, in exchange for land or whatever."

Numair shook his head, but still smiled. "Wrong. Although I can't believe we've never thought of doing that…" he tailed off absently. Daine looked thoughtful.

"I can't think of anything else of use to do in the Copper Isles." She said eventually. "Tell me?"

"We're not going to the Copper Isles. We going to the Yamani Islands." Numair said. Daine laughed suddenly.

"Fly across the Emerald Ocean? In winter?" She laughed disbelievingly. "You can't be serious! It's not possible."

"It's the same distance as Carthak to the end of the Copper Isles, and you said you'd done that." Numair reasoned. "We could rest in the Isles, or on ships- there's still a lot of trade between all the Islands, since they're not at war."

"But hawks aren't sea-fliers." She started dubiously. "And if we even got there, we'd have nothing to prove that we're not deserters… or spies."

"I've met the Tortallan ambassador who lives there." Numair waved a hand dismissively, "He'll remember me."

"Why? What did you do?" Daine said curiously.

"I pulled an egg out of his ear. Shall we go?" He took a strange parcel out of his pocket and hung its cord around his neck like a flat pendant. Daine stood up quickly.

"Wait! We can't just…" Her voice tailed off as she noticed he now had a sparkling handful of magic and was industriously drawing signs over it with a finger. "What are you doing?" She finished suspiciously.

"Speaking spell." He glanced up. "I can't mind-speak, and I know that if you went five minutes in my company without arguing you'd probably be bored." He saw she looked uneasy, despite his jest, and smiled reassuringly. "It won't hurt you, I promise."

She snapped out of her fear and belatedly returned the jest in a flat voice. "If you'd stop witching me every five minutes I'd have nothing to argue about."

"And think how boring _that_ would make our conversations!" He retorted, pleased to see a slight smile return to her face. She nodded.

"Okay. Show me."

The mage snapped the shining spell in two as if it were toffee, pressing one half to the pulse in his throat. Glowing softly, it sank into the skin. "See, it's easy." He said, his voice echoing slightly as the spell adjusted itself. He held out the other half of the spell to Daine. She reached out and stopped, her fingers trembling a scant inch above the glowing lump. She gritted her teeth determinedly, but could not get her hand to move.

"I'm sorry." She said, retracting her hand. Numair shook his head understandingly.

"It's alright. I'll do it." He pressed the spell to her throat just above the collar. Daine stood perfectly still, eyes tightly shut and fists clenched at her sides. She shivered as she felt the lukewarm spell sink inside her skin. It buzzed horribly for a second, like intense pins-and-needles, before fading away. She forced herself to stay perfectly still until the sensation had completely faded away, then realised that Numair's hand was against the side of her face, comfortingly. She focused on that feeling, rather than the spell, and opened her eyes.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" He smiled when she shook her head slightly, not wanting to dislodge his hand. Gently, he kissed her forehead. "Feel free to argue all you like." He said, and let her go, going behind the rise to give her some privacy to shape shift in.

Slightly stunned, she began to raise a hand to her forehead, and then sighed at her foolishness. With practiced ease, she shifted into the shape of a kittiwake and flew over the rise towards the cliff. She settled on the edge, working out which direction to fly in until a large black hawk landed beside her.

_There's a reason hawks don't fly out to sea_. She thought. The black bird ruffled its feathers.

_I know_. He thought back. He pulled on a cord that was round his neck, tightening the knot on the parcel he had produced earlier. It was the right size to fit neatly against him, without obstructing his feet or wings. Daine glanced at it curiously.

_What's that? _She asked. Numair glanced at her and flapped his wings experimentally, making sure the parcel was clear.

_State secret. _He said eventually, his tone apologetic. Daine tilted her head to one side, amused, and took flight.


	16. Chapter 13: Of a Feather

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Chapter 13: Of a Feather

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_The days faded into the nights, boredom and weariness making each moment an eternity. The sea stretched endlessly, a flat expanse with no beginning or end, dancing eternally in the prison the land forced it to inhabit. It blended into the horizon, a stretch of blue-green that circled around, until the colour was the entire world. Sea and sky, sky and sea, both reflecting the other's moods in a never ending circle of beauty and violence. _

_The occasional glances of land seemed a travesty, an intrusion to the beautiful eternity of the sea. The snatched moments of sleep on these jagged teeth of rock were uneasy, the sounds of the waves making them fly even in their dreams. _

_The beginning of the journey was different, exciting. Even as their wings became tired, the other was there to find the sporadic thermals that would grant a brief rest. Even as winter cold and storms turned the glittering blue-green into mountains of slate grey, and they were soaked to the skin, and pulled sideways by the wind, they watched out for the other._

_Gradually, the exhilaration of flight faded. The memory of the coast faded, there were less places to rest. No other birds flew out this far. They flew beneath a silent and empty sky, listening to the roar of the hungry sea that reached its frozen waves towards them, lest they fall. _

_It spoke to them. Some days it would whisper, each wave a silken hypnotic sound in the silence of wing beats. The whispers soothed, promised, added to their exhaustion. When the rain fell it laughed with each drop that fell into the depths, mocking them. When the strong wind blew them further from the frothing waves, it roared its fury. They listened to the silent words. _

_After the fifth day, they barely spoke. Each flew, wrapped in their own thoughts and exhaustion, directing their journey by the sun or by the stars. One flew with the resigned stubbornness not to give up born from a similar journey, the other with obstinate determination. They knew the other was there, and that was enough. _

_They reached the first island after a week with a dazed disbelief. The sea crashed against the rocks with an impossibly violent sound after the soft hush of waves. The solid ground seemed too still. The vague glimpses of people on the horizon seemed unreal. Too tired to seek proper shelter, they found a tiny cave, folded their frozen wings, and slept. _

_They remained birds for the three days spent in the Copper Isles, knowing that the Islanders were very suspicious of intruders, and not wanting to be delayed. The first two days were spent sleeping the dreamless sleep of the exhausted. On the third day they hunted the rock pools, eating small fish and molluscs as the true birds did. They found a tiny brook and drank, desperate to get the cloying salt out of their throats. _

_When a small Islander pointed out the strange black bird to his suspicious mother, they decided it was time to go. _

_The second half of their journey was even worse, the isolation and weariness from the first journey still fresh in their minds and bodies. They found a trade route and followed it, snatching brief moments of sleep on board hidden corners of ships, fleeing at the slightest noise from a member of the crew._

_To their dismay, Carthaki vessels were prominent along the route. A single glance at the other and they agreed: even if they were nearly dropping from the sky with exhaustion, they would not land on those ships. _

_And the sea continued, endlessly. _

_The sea roared at them, whispered soothing words of sleep, laughed, but they ignored it. Their world became as silent as death, and stretched into an exhausted eternity._

_Endlessly. _

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Piers heard a muffled thump. Sighing, he put his book down on a low table, unfolded his long legs with a wince, and stood up. He was used to birds flying into his clear glass window- it was such a strange construction for this land, and birds could not see it. But this was too much! Two birds in as many minutes! Sighing in exasperation, he opened the window and looked out, checking to see if either of the idiotic creatures was hurt- a habit he had picked up after the first time his daughters had seen such a collision happen. The pitying tears of the elders were almost as bad as the silent accusation of the youngest.

The tower room looked down on the flat roof of the kitchen and servants quarters, two meters below. Two dark shapes were sitting on the roof, looking stunned. Piers groaned. Two of them, and both hurt! Once again, his home would be full of shrieking demands for food and freedom as they healed. He was about to close the shutter and forget the whole idea when one of the shadows looked up.

The movement made him look more closely. As he did, he became more and more bewildered. One of the birds he recognised as a kittiwake, a small seagull- but what was a kittiwake doing here? They were only native to Tortall! And the other bird…

Its black eyes glittered with bright intelligence as it looked at him. Its feathers seemed to dark to be real, offset by a strange brown package it had around its neck. Piers' pulse quickened. Maybe - finally! - they were messenger birds from Tortall. Perhaps the situation there wasn't as hopeless as he'd thought, if they could send messages in winter.

Excited, he threw open the window and shutter fully, planning to climb out and fetch the birds. With a yelp, he fell back into the room as the large black bird flew in, settling almost instantly atop the table and pecking at a lose string from the parcel. Piers watched agape as it unpicked complicated knots with its beak, expertly untying the cord. As soon as it was lose, the bird slipped the string from around its throat and flew back to the open window.

Piers picked up the parcel, slightly unnerved, and glanced at the bird. It was peering down at the kittiwake in a very human expression of concern. Abruptly, it launched itself from the sill and landed next to the gull. Its head moved slightly, for all the world as if it were talking. Shaking his head at his fanciful thoughts, Piers opened the parcel.

Several papers fell out, protected by the waterproof leather. Each bore the royal seal, and a direction for who it was addressed to: members of state, Yamani royalty, generals… all except one. A single scrap of parchment fluttered to the floor.

As Piers bent to pick it up, he heard the flutter of wings. The black hawk had returned to the table. Behind it, the smaller bird flew slowly into the room, sinking against the windowsill as if exhausted. The black bird turned its eyes from the kittiwake, and fixed them sharply on Piers.

He looked at the scrap he held in his hand.

He blanched.

Staring at the birds, he edged towards the doorway. He yelled into the corridor, "Ilane!"

Behind him, he heard a startled shriek as the gull was shocked out of its stupor. The black hawk continued to watch him sharply, challenge in its eyes. Even the sound of running footsteps did not break the bird's attention.

"Piers, what…?" Ilane gasped, slipping on the polished wooden floor in her slippered feet. Stopping to catch her breath, she sought her husband's gaze, trying to work out what on earth was wrong. Without speaking, Piers handed her the slip of parchment. She read it with pursed lips, not used to reading in common any more. When she had finished it she looked slightly paler, but much more composed than Piers knew he looked.

"Who is it…?" She asked, stopping her question as Piers pointed into the study. Giving her husband a reproachful look, she stepped into the room and bowed to the two birds, hardly turning a hair as the larger one nodded its own head in reply.

"Noble sirs," she said, still a little breathlessly, "please forgive my husband, he forgot his manners in his surprise. We both welcome you to our home." She bowed again. "Piers will go and fetch you clothes and food _right now." _The last words had a sting of order to them. Chastised, Piers hurried from the room. Wondering whether or not to expect a reply, Ilane glanced at the smaller brown bird. It swayed on the windowsill, but met her eyes. It cheeped at her curiosity, but glanced at the other bird, waiting for a slight nod, before it acted.

Swiftly, its beak shrank into its face. Ilane watched without expression as it struggled with its new formed mouth, trying to form words. When at last it spoke, the voice was flat and rasping.

"Thank you for your welcome, Nobility. We are more pleased to be here than you could ever realise."

"Not at all. I am Ilane, and my husband is Piers. What might this humble host call you?" Ilane felt safer in the court formalities. It distracted her from the thought that she was talking a bird. A giggle at the absurdity of it rose in her throat. Hastily, she made her face like stone.

The bird hesitated, bowed in return at the hospitality, and then said cautiously, "I think you have met Numair before. I am called Daine."

Ilane hadn't heard of either of them, but she murmured in traditional reply, "Is there anything we can do to make your welcome complete?"

_Stop exchanging formalities, Daine! _Numair scolded; obviously annoyed that he couldn't speak up for them. _I'm sick of being a bird! _

_It was your stupid idea to fly in the first place. _She retorted with a only a touch of her old energy. _Stop complaining at me! _To Ilane she said, bluntly, "Is there anywhere where we can sleep for a while, um, Ilane?"

"Of course. But don't you want to eat first, or…" Her voice tailed off as the bird shook its head wearily. The gesture was so very human that Ilane felt all her cynicism and confusion melt into sympathy.

Ilane noticed how both birds- both _mages_, she corrected herself, thinking of the piece of paper- were swaying on their feet, how every movement seemed a great effort. The kittiwake's voice was dry and weak. Despite the larger bird's keen gaze, the eyes were over-bright and shadowed. Mud and grime covered them, giving them both a thoroughly dilapidated look. _Mithros only knows what they've been through_, she thought.

When Piers returned to the study, having given orders to every servant he could find, the room was empty. He glanced surreptitiously around the study, privately convinced that he'd imagined the whole thing. A few stray feathers and clawed footprints remained on the table and sill, belying his thought.

"They're asleep." His wife said from the hallway. She gestured to the guest wing. "I didn't think they're in any state to explain anything at the moment, anyway."

"Did you find out who they are, at least?" Piers asked quietly. Ilane shrugged and dropped the scrap of paper into the fire.

"They're Tortallan mages, as you know." She said as the inked words burned blue, briefly. "Aside from that…" She made a dismissing gesture, "The woman is called Daine, and the man is Numair. They said that we had met before."

"Numair…" Piers scratched his ear, thinking. "The name sounds familiar. But why did you let them sleep? We can't question them now. Mages usually sleep for _days!" _

"They need it." Ilane's voice was sharp, but motherly. Piers was relieved. If his wife had welcomed the strange pair into their home, then he certainly could. She was a good judge of character, even in (apparently) strange birds. It was one of the reasons she'd agreed to come to the Yamani Islands with him as an ambassador.

He smiled slightly, listening to her continue scolding him. "Stop complaining. Something important must have happened, for them to come here. Did they bring anything?"

Piers glanced around, wondering where he had left the…ah. "There are lots of official documents, directed to different nobles by the king himself. We should dispatch them."

"Before we even know what they're about?" Ilane was cautious at jeopardizing the fragile peace with the Yamani court they had worked so hard to form. Her husband shrugged.

"We'd have to do it anyway."

Ilane nodded. "Maybe, by the time those mages wake up, there will be a reply."

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	17. Chapter 14: Scul's Leverage

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Chapter 14: Scul's Leverage

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_For an eternity she floated in the darkness, her soul as exhausted as her physical self. She slept._

_Each time a shape appeared in the darkness she ran from it, wary, too tired to care about the danger, just not wanting to be disturbed. Scul hadn't appeared in her dreams since the Badger had attacked him. Daine fervently prayed that he was dead, and stopped paying attention to the Runners that spun around her constantly. Eventually she stopped running, lying down in the darkness and closing her eyes, forcing herself to rest. She slept. _

_When she opened her eyes, Scul had returned. He looked very much alive, and incredibly angry. Each grotesque limb ended with a claw, each eye glared as he towered over her. Daine stared at him, wondering why he hadn't woken her up before then. Cautiously, she stood up and faced him. _

"_I suppose you're going to yell at me now?" She said, her voice echoing away across the blackness. Scul spat on the ground and crawled nearer to her, each motion making a dry whispering in the silence. _

_-You evaded the Spidren.- He hissed the statement furiously. Daine blinked, confused. _

_"Yes." _

_-How did you do it?-_

_"None of your business." Daine replied automatically, wondering why he wasn't trying to kill her. He seemed strangely withdrawn, as though something was stopping him from approaching her. And how did he know about the Spidren?_

_-You evaded **me**.- Scul edge slightly closer, claws lengthening and glinting in the strange light that lit only him and Daine. His voice became sharper, more threatening. _

–_You disappeared. We could not summon you. You evaded us.- _

_She shrugged and nodded again. _

_"I guess so."_

_-How did you do it?- _

_"I have no idea, otherwise I'd still be doing it." She snapped. Scul hissed sharply, making her jump, and grabbed her wrist. The claw turned into a horribly elongated human hand as it took hold. She shrieked and tried to pull away as the flare of magic built around his fingers, the colours as dull and nauseating as the claw she kept. Sickeningly, she felt magical claws rake through her mind, as if her thoughts were being invaded._

_She looked around her frantically for something to break his hold, to stop whatever spell he was casting. Abruptly, the claw appeared in her hand. She gritted her teeth and drove it across his wrist, severing tendons. _

_Scul roared and released her, noxious slime dripping from the wound. She dropped to the ground, shaking the numb feeling from her wrist as she backed away. The chaos demon twisted his hand, shifting its shape constantly. In each form the limb hung uselessly from his side, the damage permanent. _

_Abruptly, Scul stood up straight and glared straight at her. She clutched the claw tightly, waiting for a second attack which never came. Instead, the demon did the unbelievable. _

_He laughed. _

_The sound rumbled across the empty plain, startling the Runners from their flight: A cracked gurgling that carried on and on, chilling the blood. Daine straightened up, eyeing the creature warily as it twisted in mirth. _

_-Is that _all_?- He chuckled, the noise bubbling in many throats. Daine glared back at him, spinning the claw between her fingers. He caught sight of her expression and redoubled his laughter. _

_-You think we find your attack amusing? The badger did more damage than you! But this- this is hysterical!-_

_"What are you talking about?" spat the girl, not letting go of the claw. Scul looked at her again and smiled unpleasantly, the distortions in his form no longer seeming random. Abruptly, he disappeared. In the space where he had been was the form of a human. Dark eyes glittered with sadistic amusement as she shrank from his new shape. _

_"So _this_ is how you avoided us!" the image of Numair laughed, walking closer to her. She froze, more scared by this clone than by the thousand sharp claws of the demon's normal form. The clone stopped close to her, still smiling in amusement. _

"_What did he do?" He reached a hand towards her face, which she flinched away from. Shaking, she raised the claw, but couldn't will herself to attack him- he looked so much like Numair. _

_Undeterred, he reached out again and covered her fist with his own hand, trapping the claw and pulling her close to him. His other hand stroked her cheek tenderly; a gesture so like Numair's that for a moment Daine wondered if it was actually him. Then his eyes held hers- his dark orbs that swam with Scul's colours of chaos, sadistic and cruel. Daine shivered. _

_"Stop it." She whispered, "It's not fair." _

_"Did he do this? Did he protect you?" the shape laughed, the eyes dancing sickly, and leaned closer to her. "Did he kiss you? How sweet!" _

_"He didn't…" the girl started, trying to pull away. He held her tightly, his eyes becoming mockingly sympathetic._

_"You _love_ him, don't you?" He murmured, drawing her into an embrace. Daine cried out pulled away sharply, trying to ignore the false expression of hurt on 'Numair's' face as she began to back away from him. _

_"Stop it." She cried, "Please, leave him out of it!" _

_"But, didn't he _tell_ you that he loves you?" The clone said in a gentle mimicry of Numair at his most confiding. Daine stopped and glared at him, her heart twisting at the tender expression on his face. She forced her voice to become cold and stop shaking. _

_"You're wrong. He doesn't." _

_"Ah, I think he does." The shape whispered softly, an undercurrent of mirth in his words. "Why else would he have done it?" _

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"You don't? Ah, but it's written all over your emotions!" The shape stepped forward, caught one of her hands and kissed it. As he released it, Daine could see her copper aura shining around it briefly. Strands of black fire were interlaced with the copper, a visible proof of the life that Numair had given her. She stared at her hand silently as the light faded. _

_"It was just a spell." She said quietly. The clone laughed again, the soft sound crackling with the undertone of Scul's death rattle. _

_"How naïve you are! And we thought you were dangerous!" The words sounded strange coming from Numair's mouth, twisted as it was into a cruel grin. Daine flinched as he kissed her forehead in a parody of Numair's gesture. _

_"Thank you, my dear. You have given me the perfect solution to a problem that's been troubling me." _

_Daine blinked, confused. The clone winked at her._

_"It'd be a shame if something happened to Numair, wouldn't it?" The clone smiled lightly at the words, but his eyes narrowed meaningfully. Daine's own eyes widened as she caught the threat. "An accident, an injury, a death… chaos can be found all around, even in the Yamani Islands. Still, I'm sure nothing will happen- we're all friends here, right?" _

_"What do you _want_?" Daine said shakily, her face white. 'Numair' smiled gently and shook his head. _

_"Don't worry, sweetheart. It'll be our secret." He lied, and smirked slightly as a tear ran down the girl's cheek. _

"_You can wake up now."_

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"You're awake!" An accented voice declared happily, barely seconds after Numair opened his eyes. He blinked, the blurred face slowly coming into focus.

"Are you Piers?" He said foggily, wishing he'd had more time to wake up before the man saw him. Piers smiled in acknowledgement and handed him a glass of water.

"You've been asleep for two days and a night. That's what most mages want to know when they wake up, right?" Traces of a smile shone at the corners of his eyes when Numair grimaced at the time span. "Relax. We dispatched all the letters you brought, and there are no urgent replies yet."

"Very efficient." Numair croaked dryly. "I'm sorry we didn't speak when we arrived, but…"

"But you were tired- we understand. Daine told us you flew across the ocean to get here! I think anyone would be tired after that." He teased.

Numair looked up from the glass of water, a sudden vivacity spreading across his eyes. "Daine's awake? Is she alright?" He stopped and abruptly flushed as he realised the other man was looking at him with sudden amusement and understanding. Piers decided not to comment on it, remembering the confusing twenty minutes he had spent trying to talk to the girl.

She had woken up several hours before- rather abruptly, as Ilane put it. Piers hadn't understood what she'd meant, until she shivered and said, "I hope I never have a nightmare like that. She just woke up and started _crying_."

By the time Piers knew she was awake, the whole household was gossiping about this strange mage.

The girl had woken up, apologised- _apologised!_- for having a nightmare, and calmly washed and dressed herself in a spare kimono before a maid could be summoned- a feat unheard of by a household of women who spent hours grooming themselves each day.

When she was offered breakfast, she had ended up helping the cook chop vegetables and clean the hearth. Ilane had found out and scolded the cook and her guest in equal parts, then asked Daine if they could talk to her. Daine had agreed, and taken a skein of wool with her to card. The girl seemed determined to keep as busy as possible, like a servant!

And then, when they talked to her… it was like she didn't know anything! Every time Piers asked her a question about the letters, or the reason they were there, she just told him to ask Numair. When she found out that her friend was still asleep, she had shrugged uncomfortably and evaded the questions in other ways. She was very polite, but Piers had a niggling feeling that she knew much more than she was saying.

Ilane had a thousand questions- about the letters, if she was feeling well, how she became a bird, who she was- and each one was either answered very quickly, or politely dismissed by the girl. It wasn't until Ilane asked her about her family that her calm mask seemed to fade- she had just stared at the floor and muttered something. She was even more silent when they asked her about Numair.

Ilane wisely kept her mouth shut from then on. It was clear that if they were going to get any straight answers, it would be from Numair. Piers had left the room feeling cheated and decided to sit in with the other mage, and ask him the questions when he awoke.

He wanted to know why the man had brought Daine with him. Even if she was the best diplomat in the world- and she obviously wasn't- there would be no point her being here- the Yamani courts only permitted men to speak, except in extreme cases. Certainly they wouldn't respect a king who sent an eighteen-year old girl to speak for him. Now, looking at the man's embarrassment, he thought he understood.

_Best not to speculate, _he thought, _Ilane will do that enough…_

"She's fine, just tired. She apologised for being impolite, but that was pretty much _all_ she said." Piers said pointedly. Numair smiled slightly.

"I'm sure you agree that, for some types of news, it is better if as few people know as possible." He invented. Piers smiled humourlessly, the smile of someone who doesn't believe a word of it.

"May _I_ know this news?" He asked, as bluntly as he dared. Then, seeing Numair raise an amused eyebrow at the change from the court politeness, he added, "After you're awake, and have broken your fast, of course."

Numair bowed his head in reply as Piers stood up and left the room, the man audibly grinding his teeth in impatience. He couldn't blame him- Piers had been kept in suspense for three days, and he bet Daine had done her usual "ignorant spy" trick when they'd asked her anything.

Relieved to find that the clothes someone had found for him were Tortallan, and not the strange robes the Yamani wore, he dressed and wandered out of the room, following the enticing smell of food.

The kitchen was busy, servants bustling everywhere with pans and food in their arms. In the middle of the chaos, an elegant lady was directing the servants to different places- a load of flour to this cupboard, some fresh vegetables to that. Numair walked up to her and bowed. She smiled in reply and called to one of the servants, who took over the ordering with gusto.

"Good morning!" The woman said. "You must be Numair, although you look slightly different than the last time we met!"

"Then you must be the Lady Ilane." The mage replied, bowing again and smiling at her joke. She nodded and gestured to the chaos around them.

"It's market day, so everyone's busy, but I'm sure that I can find you something to eat." She opened a cupboard and pulled out half a loaf of fruit bread. "There's fruit and milk on the table. I'll make sure my husband doesn't bother you until after you've eaten!" She grinned at some private joke and carried the bread to the table.

"I'm sorry that Lord Piers has had to wait for news so long," Numair began slowly. Ilane shot him an odd look and sat down at the table, pouring two glasses of milk and gesturing for him to sit.

"He's not annoyed about that," She said, and hesitated. Numair interpreted her look correctly and raised an eyebrow.

"Daine has that effect on people." He supplied, selecting a piece of fruit.

"Yes, she's very…" Ilane sought for a word to finish the sentence and gave up as the man looked at her sharply. She sipped her milk, embarrassed, while she thought of another way to speak.

"One of my daughters is that age, and she's completely different. I suppose Piers just doesn't know how to deal with strange young women." She smiled slightly. Numair shrugged noncommittally, his eyes expressionless. Around them, the kitchen had slowly emptied until only the occasional servant was passing through. Ilane paused again, waiting until the room was empty, and leaned forward, her voice losing its lightness and becoming deadly serious.

"What's wrong with her?" She asked bluntly. Numair looked up at her again, this time keeping his eyes fixed on her disconcertingly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." He said coldly.

"She woke up this morning and couldn't stop crying! Something must have happened to make her that upset." Ilane's own eyes narrowed as Numair suddenly looked worried, finishing his breakfast hurriedly as he thought how much to tell her.

"She had a bad experience about a month ago." He said, deliberately vague. He didn't mention Scul, since he was sure this woman would not believe him. She still looked sceptical, so he elaborated: "Her… brother and sister were both killed, right in front of her."

Ilane gasped, covering her mouth with perfectly manicured fingers. "How awful! No wonder she… well, I should apologise to her… but how did…?"

"I'm sorry, but it isn't for me to tell you." Numair stood up, dusting crumbs off his hands. "I'm only telling you now out of respect to a kind hostess. I trust you will keep it a secret?"

Ilane stood up, clearly bursting with questions, but nodded. "Do you want to talk to…"

"If Daine is upset, I'd like to talk to her first." Numair said smoothly, his court manners back in place. "I'm sure Piers will understand. The news I have will take a long time to impart, and I don't want to leave a friend alone."

Ilane nodded, clearly shaken by the news. "She's in the garden."


	18. Chapter 15: A Temporary Solution

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Forest

Chapter 15: A Temporary Solution

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"The garden", as Ilane has so simply described it, was huge. Cherry trees abounded, as did ornamental rock pools, statues and bridges. The whole place was an extravagant display of the beautiful Yamani architecture, carvings and plant life guaranteed to awe any sceptical Tortallan ambassador who lived there.

It was designed to make it feel much larger than it actually was- but it was an enormous patch of land anyway. A small stream had been directed into the top of the garden nearest the house, and the garden followed its rocky path all the way to where it joined the main river half a mile away. A path ran down with it, crossing the slight rift at intervals with elaborate bridges.

To either side of this dip, clever rock falls and aqueducts created small lakes and waterfalls that teemed with brightly coloured fish and flowers. Strange statues and lanterns were placed, seemingly at random, among the taller plants, giving the garden an otherworldly feel.

Servants and gardeners travelled through it on separate, sunken paths, cleverly placed so that a person looking down at the view would not see them. Numair thought about asking one of them where Daine was, but he could not speak Yamani. He sighed and trudged along the nearest path, his legs already aching after their days of idleness.

Daine was sitting on an ornate stone bridge at the far end of the garden. The bridge was older and more practical than the others, hidden away as a crossing to a tiny, abandoned shrine rather than as a feature of the garden. She was dressed like a Yamani, but seemed to have lost her shoes- her bare feet dangled near the surface of the lake. Fat golden carp swam nearby as she threw them something.

Numair nearly didn't recognise her- in the cotton kimono, and with her dark hair braided down her back, she almost looked like one of the Yamani servants. The glint of gold collar under her hair gave her away. She was lost in thought, absently shredding a leaf and dropping the pieces into the pool, where they were nosed at by the fish. It wasn't until he stepped on the bridge that she looked around, her eyes red from crying and almost frightened.

"Go away. Please." She said in a muffled voice, looking away and wiping her eyes hastily. Numair hesitated and sat down next to her instead. Daine continued to stare at the lake, not meeting his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Numair asked, genuinely baffled. She shook her head.

"I can't tell you." She looked sideways at him and saw he was looking sceptical. She groaned and threw the rest of the leaf into the water, hiding her face in her hands. "It's not anything _spy-like_, if that's what you're worried about. It's just something you would be happier _not_ knowing." She blushed at her uncharacteristic outburst and looked away again.

"I was worried about you." He said gently. "I haven't seen you in days, and now there's obviously something wrong. Ilane told me you were unhappy." He added.

"What did she tell you that for? Stupid, prying _hachten_," Daine swore in Carthaki under her breath. "She asks too many questions. And she talks too much."

"It's her right as a hostess to enquire, since it's her charity we're living off. But don't change the subject." Numair said sharply, reminding her where they were. "Swearing about other people won't make you feel better."

"Sometimes it helps." She returned shortly.

"Is it helping now?"

"No," Daine admitted. She sighed and leaned her head against the bridge support. Carved demons laughed at her from the pillar- Scul mocking her even here. The shrine must have been a shrine to some Lord of Chaos, before time, pilgrims and weather had worn its statue away to nothing. Only here were the broken traces of Chaos' reign still visible. She pulled a face and covered the demonic faces with her hand. "Nothing will help."

Numair noticed the gesture. "It's Scul, isn't it?" He noticed her slight flinch. She turned and looked at him, her eyes searching his warily. Despite the redness that surrounded them, her gaze had a brightness that captivated. She smiled self-mockingly at she saw and broke her gaze.

"Yes, it's Scul." She said, her voice less reserved now. She resumed shredding leaves between her fingers. "He's become very_… convincing_ since the last time I saw him."

"Convincing how?" The mage asked suspiciously. Daine half-shrugged and picked a greenfly off the leaf, dropping it into the water and watching a fish eat it. Numair let her think, knowing this was about as talkative as she got.

"Can you _fight_ Chaos Demons? Actually kill them?" She asked abruptly, then flushed and stuttered, "Not you personally, I meant… any person who was attacked… or threatened…?"

Numair looked confused, tugging his long nose thoughtfully. "Theoretically, I suppose so- you'd have to use spells that don't have any chaotic elements… so not fire or… why?"

"And you have to kill the host too, right?"

"Yes." Abruptly, he pulled the leaf out of her hands and threw it away, demanding her full attention. "_What's wrong_? Has he threatened you?"

"Not me." She said in a very small voice. The demons leered down at her, but she forced herself to look at them, not daring to look at the man next to her. He was silent; the only sounds the whisper of nearby waterfalls and every soft breath they took.

She could almost hear him working it out- his next question was barely curious, because they both already knew.

"Who, then?"

"Someone I love." Daine whispered nearly inaudibly.

She heard him breathe in sharply, and forced herself to turn and look at him. His eyes were fixed on her, deeper and darker than she ever remembered them being before. He didn't seem scared by the idea of a demon attacking him. Instead, he looked intensely into her own eyes, his gaze as searching as hers had been before.

"Do you really mean that?" He asked huskily. She nodded, hardly daring to look away. Slowly, sweetly, he leaned forward and kissed her.

There was no light this time, but a warmth and energy without magic. He cupped her face with his hand as he deepened the kiss, warmth from his palm shivering down her spine blissfully. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him, tangling her own hands in his hair. Love and fear for him built up in her heart even as she lost herself in his embrace. All too soon he pulled away, brushing a tear from her cheek gently.

"Why are you crying, love?" He murmured, stroking her hair. Daine kissed his cheek, and pressed her own against it, still hugging him tightly.

"I'm scared for you. Scul will…"

"I think I can deal with Scul," He said, his eyes hardening at the mention of the name, "If he tries anything."

They stayed for a while in the cool breeze, arms wrapped around each other, content to be near the other without the need for words. Daine leaned her head against his shoulder and stroked his hand, her heart content. After a thousand moments, she sat up and faced him, her voice worried,

"You say that. But…" Daine looked relieved at his confidence, though not convinced. Her slave cynicism began to show itself again. "If he…"

Numair silenced her with another kiss. She trembled in his arms, returning the kiss passionately. With a great effort she broke away, breathless and flushed.

"Alright, I believe you." She breathed into his ear. He smiled and caught her hand. His eyes shone darkly.

"Are you sure you don't need more convincing?" He teased warmly. Daine smiled, but suddenly shook her head, disappointment clear in her eyes.

"No- I just heard someone call for you. I think Ilane wants to ask even _more_ questions." She kissed him swiftly and stood up, re-tying her braid into neatness as footsteps approached. Numair groaned as he stood up.

"You're right, she _is_ a nuisance."

"I didn't mean…" Daine started guiltily, and then saw the amusement dancing in his eyes. He winked at her, making her smile, and straightened his tunic. Together they looked back at the fish, waiting for the lady to find them.

When Ilane saw the two Tortallan mages, they were standing on the bridge feeding greenfly to the ornamental carp. The girl looked much happier, even deigning to smile at her host as she bowed.

Ilane murmured an apology for her rude questioning earlier, for which Daine raised an eyebrow questioningly at Numair, smiled again, and apologised for her equally rude reaction. A slight flush had risen in her cheeks at Ilane's curious expression. Numair seemed only slightly less self-conscious.

Ilane hid a smile behind her stone-face, recognising what she was seeing instantly. (Mother of teenage girls as she was, she'd be a fool if she couldn't be aware of certain things, she congratulated herself.)

_It's amazing how much "feeding fish" cheers people up. _Ilane thought wryly, leading the way into the house.

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The four Tortallans sat cross legged on the floor around a low table. A traditional Yamani tea set was laid out on the table in front of them, each cup now empty. Numair's explanation had taken most of the afternoon, during which Piers and Ilane had sat rapt, asking questions only rarely.

Daine had been completely still and silent all afternoon, hands folded neatly in her lap as she listened. The statuesque stillness was unnerving, even for one who was trained in the Shang methods of sitting still in the rain. Daine seemed to do it unknowingly: more out of habit than as a meditation aid, scarcely seeming to breathe. Now, when everyone else picked holes in the King's plan, she gazed blankly ahead, thinking.

"It won't be that easy." Piers said shortly, lacing his fingers thoughtfully under his chin. "The Yamani courts work on a different system than Tortall. It's not enough to be a chosen ambassador; you have to _prove _yourself before they even listen to you."

"Then, once they do listen to you, they won't decide to fight alongside you unless they think you are a worthy warrior." Ilane added. She shot Daine a worried look from time to time with no effect- Daine seemed quite happy to let Numair do all the talking while she mused. Numair himself frowned thoughtfully at Ilane's comment. Before he could answer, Piers cut in again.

"Not a _mage_, a _warrior_. They see magic as cheating."

Daine looked up suddenly, amusement evident in her eyes. Piers jumped at the movement and glared at her reaction, scolding her as he might do one of his own daughters.

"I don't know what you think is funny, miss. It might seem silly to you, but…"

"On the contrary, I almost think I agree." Daine said softly, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Numair shot her an odd look, half pleased that she'd finally said _something_, half annoyed that she'd said something so typically… Daine-ish.

She smiled sweetly at Piers and continued: "You remind me that there are so many people in my past who I would have dearly loved to introduce to the Yamani court, your lordship."

Piers gaped at her, his earlier confusion returned tenfold by that short sentence. Next to him, Ilane covered what might have been a smile with her hand. _I've met some mages like that, _She thought. _They all deserved a quick kick in the rear, too. _

"But you're a mage! How can you say that?" Piers demanded, missing the joke entirely. Daine shook her head peacefully.

"I'm no mage." She said perplexingly, and returned to her silent reverie. Piers threw his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

"So, how do we prove ourselves?" Numair said in the silence, seemingly unaware that his friend's comment had caused any confusion. Ilane cleared her throat, covering for her husband's confused silence.

"There are many Shang warriors at the court- the Snake, the Lion, the Wolf. You challenge one of them. If you win, or if you last more than three minutes against one, then you are worthy. If you lose then you are ridiculed by the entire court, and they will not take you seriously no matter how many letters from King Jonathan you own."

"And we have to defeat them without using magic?" Numair chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"That's right- no fireballs, no explosions, no hypnosis and no healing. If it's flashy you can't use it. They have seers who watch for the Gift. The worst public humiliations are reserved for those who break the rules of combat." Piers shrugged, clearly gesturing that they should simply give up rather than suffer such a punishment.

To general surprise, Daine was the first one to react. She stood up and walked to the window, watching the pattern of a group of migratory birds and smiling.

"I'm sorry; did you say that one of the warriors is called the _Wolf?" _She asked without looking around, her voice intrigued. Ilane raised an eyebrow toward her husband (who was looking more and more irritated each time Daine did anything) and nodded.

"Yes, my dear. They name themselves according to the horoscope, and their fighting style."

"So this _Wolf _presumablyfights in the style of…a wolf?"

Piers rolled his eyes heavenwards as his wife replied in the affirmative. When Daine next spoke, her voice was warmer and more cheerful.

"Very well, I will challenge the Wolf."

"What?!"

"But…!"

Piers and Ilane burst out their protests simultaneously. Daine smiled at them, trying to soothe their protests, while looking anxiously at Numair. He watched her, dark eyes inscrutable, as he had already worked out what she intended to do. "They might still see it as cheating." He said warningly.

"I don't see how they can. It's not like I can throw spells at people- I'd still be fighting normally, just with some extra claws." She murmured back, aware that Piers and Ilane were talking earnestly to each other as well. Seeing that he still looked wary, she added, "If you can think of any other way to do this…"

"Just because I don't want you to do it, doesn't mean I can't see the sense in it. I won't try and talk you out of it." He promised, "But please think it through some more? _Before_ you get hurt?"

Daine shook her head, half amused, and glanced at Piers and Ilane, who still looked very confused. Their discussion hadn't come up with any better ideas, but they'd apparently opted to talk her out of it.

"Daine, you don't understand what these people can do." Ilane said kindly, her voice over-reasonable. "I've seen them break someone's arm with a paper fan. They're not…"

"I know _exactly_ what sort of people they are." Daine said shortly, her good humour evaporating. "You're not just going to take my word on this, are you?"

As one, Piers and Ilane glanced at each other and shook their heads. Daine sighed wearily and shrank.

Ilane's scream would have brought the servants running, had the room not been warded. The woman only let her rigid self-control slip for an instant as a large Gallan Mountain Wolf padded towards her. Biting her lip, she told herself not to be so silly and smiled uncertainly at the wolf. It was unmistakably Daine- it had the same colour hair, the same eyes and, strangely, a faint gold-coloured ring around its throat. The wolf sat down, waving its tail slightly as it looked from one ambassador to the other.

Piers' eyes narrowed but he was less surprised than his wife as he addressed a question to Numair. "I thought mages could only shapeshift into one thing. But she was a bird before- how can she be a wolf?"

"Mages have that restriction, yes." Numair said flatly. His expression was slightly worried as he looked at the wolf. "As Daine said, this doesn't use the gift. And she has many forms she can use."

Ilane looked up shakily. "I'm sorry for my surprise. I never imagined…" She tailed off as the Daine-Wolf padded towards her, resting a paw on her foot in a comforting manner. Its muzzle shifted slightly until Daine could speak.

"It'f okay." She said thickly, "Lotf of people get fcared. That'f why I don't tell them."

"It's worth a try," Ilane said in reply, directing the comment at her husband in particular. "It's better than anything _we_ thought of."


	19. Chapter 16a: Betrayer

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Forest

Chapter 16a: Betrayer

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A/N: Only a short chapter today, sorry. I've been making bamboo flutes for my art course and haven't had time to write much. :(

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_-So.- Said Scul, the moment she fell asleep. –You have made your decision.-_

"_What else could I do?" She asked simply. The demon hissed closer, threatening even though it seemed quite calm. She forced herself to stand her ground, facing the twisting demon boldly. Scul looked amused rather than angry, as if he were playing a game. His laugh gurgled phlegm in a malformed throat, a sound like someone drowning. _

_-You could have protected him. After all, he protected _you_. He will suffer, because of you.- The demon smiled cruelly, taking delight in the idea. _

"_I'd rather we _both_ die than him ever think I'd betrayed him!" Daine cried, making the demon laugh again. She gritted her teeth, determined not to respond to any of his gibes. _

_-Do you even know what death is?- He oozed closer. –It is a thousand nightmares, a million betrayals every second.- _

_Daine sighed and sat down cross-legged, ignoring the demon. "Seems to me," she said, inspecting her nails resolutely, "That you're running out of things to threaten me with. Once I got over how damned ugly you are, you're not actually that frightening. You're just a… a _shadow_." _

_Scul roared, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her upright. She winced as he lifted her feet from the ground, trying to ignore the tearing feeling in her scalp. When she raised a hand to try to dislodge the hand, her fingers found only the sharpness of claws. Scul lifted her until she was staring directly into his face. His red eyes burned, the pupils spinning dizzily. _

_**-You are nothing! I could kill you now, and no-one would care!- **he hissed in a thousand voices, malicious hate dripping from each word. Flecks of rank spit flew from his mouth with each word- his breath smelled even worse than the badger's! Daine held her breath and wiped slime from her cheek as he continued. **–Your protection won't last forever…-** He dropped her and flexed the claw idly, as though touching her had hurt him. Daine picked herself up calmly. _

"_If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it by now." She said simply, ignoring the irate rage on the demon's face. Long fangs grew down from his slit of a mouth, dripping yellow slime into the darkness. Daine forced herself not to retch and stood up straight. "Is there anything else?" _

"_As a matter of fact, there is." A third voice said sharply from the darkness behind her. Daine jumped and spun around. The man walked calmly out of the shadow. Strangely enough, the Runners ignored him completely. They continued circling above Daine's head as he slowly stepped into view. _

_She examined him warily, keeping an eye on Scul at the same time. The demon seemed to have grown in size since the human appeared- his constant shifts in appearance were more regular, the claws and fangs longer. The human kept his distance from the demon as he walked closer to Daine. _

_He was far too skinny, his eyes almost as red and insane as the demon's. His cheekbones and shoulder blades poked out sharply, visible even under his red tunic. He had a patchy, untended shadow about his jaw, as if he couldn't be bothered to shave- but his fingers were combing through his hair meticulously. Despite the dramatic change in his appearance, Daine recognised him almost immediately. Her blood ran cold as she instinctively raised a hand to the slave collar she still wore. _

"_Kavan." She said icily. The man bowed mockingly, a strange dark amulet swinging around his neck at the movement. _

"_Daine." He replied in exactly the same tone, then smiled sickly. "Actually, I'm 'The Rancune' now. Kavan died in Carthak. And how are you? Do you have a noble title now you're whoring it with traitors?" _

"_You don't _look_ dead. I'd be happy to fix that." She returned, flushing darkly at his mock. The man shook his head, turning to bow to Scul formally. Amazingly, Scul bowed back and faded into the darkness, leaving them alone. Kavan straightened when he left, looking slightly less worn. _

"_Alas, I'm too important to die." _

"_Why are you here?" The girl snapped, tired of playing his stupid game. Kavan shrugged and snapped his fingers, causing a shape to form out of the ground- a makeshift chair. He threw himself down on it with a sigh of comfort. _

"_We-ell," He drawled, "When our mutual friend threatened you yesterday, you assumed that Scul was just going to drop out of the sky, challenge 'Someone you love' to a duel, die, and leave you to conveniently run back to your pretty pony in Tortall. Is that right?" _

_Daine gasped, "How did you know that…" Kavan waved a skeletal hand arrogantly, a gesture of silence from the days when he was her teacher. Automatically, she stopped talking, paling as she realised how much he must know. Kavan sighed, an exaggerated gesture. _

"_So, Scul decided that he wasn't going to be the Big Fight at the end of the sonnet- even though he could destroy your pathetic friend with a snap of his fingers. Instead, he asked me. Me, and my standing army, that is. I thought you might like to know that." _

"_But…" Daine started. He held up a finger warningly and glanced at the Runners. Seeing they were swirling with disinterest, he leaned forward and whispered confidingly. _

"_Don't start a war you can't win, my dear. If I get involved, you and your pathetic country will fall within a week. Not just that mangy mage you care so much about- your friends, innocent people, children… you really are being very selfish." _

"_But, you wouldn't…" Daine said, aghast. Kavan smiled, his eyes glittering eerily. _

"_But, I would! I will personally take great delight in destroying everything you care about. And then I will destroy _you_." An odd look came onto his face as he looked at her. "I will tell everyone that you could have stopped it, so easily. I will tell mothers as I torture their children. I will tell sisters as their brothers die in their arms. I will tell Numair as he rots in prison." _

"_You're mad. They won't believe you." She whispered, hearing the truth in every word he spoke. Kavan shook his head slightly. He shook his head at her foolishness as if she were a disobedient schoolchild. _

"_Well, y'see, they would. Because while their families die around them, you will not be harmed. While they starve and suffer, you will be treated well. My soldiers will speak of you with awe, as if they were acting on your orders. You shall live to see it all carried out before your very eyes. They will curse your name. You speak to gods, but you would not deign to act on their behalf? How selfish, how shameful!" He grinned, his eyes dancing insanely. _

"_But it's not _true!_" Daine cried. _

"_To them, it will be. It was Scul's idea- he's so good at creating chaos! Personally, I'd rather just kill you- but this is admittedly more fun." He replied. Daine stood silently for a moment. Kavan smiled. "Come on, my dear, the alternative is not that terrible." _

"_What is it?" She asked flatly. Kavan stood up, holding something in his hand. It was a thin necklace, like the one he wore. Tiny chaos stones were spun along its length. It was small enough to be hidden easily under the slave collar she wore. _

"_Just wear this." He said, holding it out to her. She backed away slightly, her eyes suspicious. _

"_What'll happen?" _

"_Happen?" He looked surprised. "Nothing! It's just a piece of jewellery. It means that the gods can tell who you're supporting in their war." _

"_Why is it so important that I wear it, then?" Daine flicked her hair back, irritated, and picked up the necklace. It did seem innocent enough… "Thousands of people will die if I don't wear it? What is the point of it?" She realised her voice had risen and gulped, desperately not wanting to make him angry enough to carry out his threats. He smiled slightly, amused. _

"_Alright, it does have other purposes… but if you're a good girl, you'll never have to find out what they are." _

"_Don't be stupid. I'd rather know." She snapped. He shrugged. _

"_At the end of the day, it means… life if you wear it, death if you don't. What do you care what happens to you, balanced against the lives of thousands? You never used to care."_

"_I don't understand. And I won't wear it. You'll want me to hurt people, and I won't." The girl said coldly, turning as if to walk away. Kavan laughed, a mocking rumble. _

"_Austen Monk. Marvyn Terry. Vivien Wells. Tomas Kingsdon." He recited. Daine paused, the necklace cutting into her fist as she clenched it. "Aaron Watersedge. Liann Paxton. Even _I _probably can't remember the names of all the people you've killed."_

"_That was because…" _

"_Ah yes, because dear old Ozorne told you or Katryn to do it. I know. But you were the ones who killed them, not him. And how many of them does your pet mage know about?" _

_Daine stared at him, and fastened the necklace around her throat, hiding it under the collar where it pricked her skin uncomfortably. "I was different, then." _

"_Not different enough." He smirked. _

_And Daine…_

…_woke up. _


	20. Chapter 16b: Continued

Forest 

Chapter 16b: Continued…

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The Yamani court was a dizzying explosion of colour, music and people. After the silence of the sea, the crowds seemed unreal. How could there possibly be so many people? And yet, there were.

First, you noticed the young courtiers, at court to impress and to marry. They wore the brightest colours, the richest silks and the more flamboyant jewels. The women trailed heavy embroidered skirts behind them, the men long over-robes. They laughed too loudly and too often, chattering in abnormally high voices as close to people of importance as they could get. Whenever one went past, whether they were walking, heading for another crowd of human-peacocks, or dancing, heavy clouds of scent filled the air behind them. Sweet pea, jasmine, rose and ylang-ylang mixed together into a solid wall of perfume.

The older courtiers looked on with disdain or masked amusement, arm-in-arm with husbands or wives they had won in the same manner. Their robes were just as sumptuous and rich as the younger ones, but were in more muted colours. The oldest nobles were even wearing black robes that made them patches of shadow among the younger butterflies.

Scattered around were men and women who were wearing a totally different style of clothes. Although they were embroidered and dyed as elaborately as the brightest courtiers', they were clearly meant to be practical as well as beautiful. They had no trailing robes, and no heavy jewellery. Many of them had cut their hair short, or had severe hairstyles. Even as these people chatted easily to the other guests, their stance was wary and their eyes were constantly alert.

Among all the chaos, it was difficult to see the servants- and yet there was a throng of them flowing in and out of the doors, serving food and drink to the gathering. Some of the more extravagant nobles had a servant trailing behind them, holding their robes from the floor or carrying a bag of what must be kohl or rouge, _just in case_.

Daine tried to blend in to the crowd, feeling uneasy in the delicate green kimono one of Ilane's daughters had loaned her. The dress was covered with delicate embroideries and small semi-precious stones: elaborate enough to make Daine feel over-conspicuous, but it was plain compared to some of the court dresses.

That afternoon, when Piers and Numair were discussing Yamani politics in the next room, Ilane had suggested to her that she find a "pretty dress" for court. She had been perplexed when Daine hadn't seemed that interested in the idea. Realising that Daine would probably go to the Emperor's court in the rough clothes she was wearing without being overly concerned, she devoted herself to the task of convincing her to dress well.

"But I'm going to shapeshift." Daine said, after half an hour's avid refusals. "And I've seen too many people wearing nice clothes. Don't _you _think they look gaudy?"

Ilane sighed, feeling put-upon. "It'll offend people if you don't dress up, to be honest. Even the warriors have to look smart in the Emperor's presence. They won't let you in if you're not 'gaudy'."

"Oh." Said Daine, taking interest.

"Besides, don't you _want_ to look pretty?" Daine gave her a blank look- apparently the concept was new to her. Ilane wondered what on earth she had been doing when other girls were trying on makeup and dresses. Why, her daughters were always trying new clothes, like there was no tomorrow! "Didn't you and your sister-"

"No… I don't have any sisters. And I didn't have anything to dress up for, so I didn't." Daine said vaguely, missing Ilane's slip of the tongue. The older woman was silent for a moment.

"Perhaps I really need to say: there's some_one_ you should look pretty for." She said quietly. Daine glanced at her, surprised, a blush starting on each cheek. Ilane smiled, not pushing the point, and stood up, leading the way to the women's wing of the house.

Ilane asked permission from her daughters to search their wardrobes. Daine had scowled at the vast array of pink and more pink, searching until she found the green dress.

"But it's unfashionable, my dear!" Ilane's eldest daughter had been elegantly shocked. Daine shrugged.

"It's _not pink_. And it's not frilly, or over-long. It'll do fine."

"But, how can you bear to be seen in something so old?" The elegance had vanished. The fine daughter was genuinely amazed.

Daine had also avoided all their attempts to dress her hair, or lend jewellery. Instead, she plaited her hair back from her face in the most practical way she knew. A few strands escaped the braid and hung around her face, softening the severity. Still, she thought she could just about stand to be seen, although she still felt ridiculously overdressed. .

At the court, she wandered through the throng, absently trying to guess which of the practically dressed nobles The Wolf was. The chaos necklace pricked her neck from where it was hidden under the gold collar, adding to her uneasiness.

Someone materialised at her arm, bowing and saying something she couldn't make out. She frowned at the man, a well-dressed Yamani butterfly, and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," She said loudly over the chatter, "I can't hear you. And I don't speak Yamani."

"Ah! But I can speak common!" He replied in a heavy accent, smiling charmingly. Although his words were lyrical and teasing, his eyes seemed to be calculating. His groomed features were marred by a scar across his cheek, which dimpled when he smiled- as he was doing now. "I was merely welcoming a new flower to the beauty of the court."

"Don't try and flatter me. I'm not interested." Daine smiled slightly to make the rebuke less hurtful, but the man didn't seem to listen. He fixed his eyes on her face as she spoke, and smiled as if she had proved him right at something.

"You _are_ from the mainland, then. No Yamani maiden would be so modest! But where do they grow such beautiful flowers? Tortall? Galla? Your accent is strange, a mixture that I cannot place."

"It's none of your business!" She said. The man nodded thoughtfully, a knowing expression on his face.

"You are right. We haven't even introduced ourselves! It was rude of me to inquire." He bowed again, his eyes laughing. "I promise I won't compliment you again without your permission!"

Daine laughed despite herself and returned the bow. "Then I apologise for my… well, for being rude. I'm Veralidaine Sarrasri, of Galla, Carthak _and_ Tortall."

"What a combination! I am only of the Yamani Islands, and my name is Ged Shurin. I believe you wanted to meet me?"

"Did I?"

"Yes. I was talking with the Lady Ilane, and she mentioned having lost a young friend of hers who had something particular to say to me. I agreed to search for her friend, but while I was looking I caught sight of such beauty that my quest quite escaped my mind!"

Daine frowned at the reference to Ilane and completely missed the rest of the speech, trying to work out who on earth…

"Are you the Wolf, by any chance?" She asked bluntly. The man smiled and bowed.

"Not only beautiful, but intelligent! There's hope for Tortallans yet!" He grinned. "Yes, my name is Ged Shurin, but I am also called the wolf. And I have no third name for you to discover, I'm sorry to say!"

"Are you ever _serious_?" Daine said, exasperated. Ged shrugged.

"It depends what this particular thing you have to say is."

"I want to challenge you, to prove my worth as a warrior." Daine recited the words Piers had taught her formally. Ged's expression changed to one of almost pity.

"In that case, I am deadly serious. And very sorry. I accept."


	21. Chapter 17: Confrontations

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Chapter 17: Confrontations

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Ilane glanced across the room and smiled rigidly, whispering something to her husband. The two ambassadors had mingled with the crowd, introducing Numair to various members of state while they waited for Daine to speak to the Wolf. Since the warrior had spoken to their group first, Ilane had told him that the strange northern girl wished to speak to him, but not what about. The Wolf had raised an eyebrow playfully at her and slipped away, bowing politely.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Numair asked. The woman raised her own eyebrow.

"He already knows. But the rituals must be observed." She sighed and rubbed her arms absently, letting Piers explain better than she could.

"Daine has to challenge him herself, to prove that we're not forcing her to fight. But more than that…" Piers paused, choosing his words with care. "What is the honour in fighting someone who you have never met?

"The Shang Warriors do not challenge the vain, the greedy, the corrupt, because they are not worthy of their attention. Someone who wishes to fight to gain money, or power, or just to show off their skills… well, they have nothing to prove, I suppose. They have no real cause to fight."

"I don't really understand that, myself." Ilane shrugged. "Ged- the Wolf- is nice enough when he wants to be, but he has no patience with people who are wasting his time. So he talks to them first. Simple as that."

"I like my explanation better." Piers muttered. Ilane supremely ignored him, turning to bow to another Noble who had approached their small group.

Numair let his attention wander as more and more Yamani courtiers flowed into the room, all chattering with nervous excitement as they anticipated the arrival of the Emperor. Most of the nobles who greeted the Tortallans spoke in Yamani, the flowing poetic language that was completely unknown to him. When Ilane began speaking in Common again he was startled out of his reverie.

"…surprised to see you at court. Have you been ill?"

"Do not concern yourself, Lady Ilane. With the help of the gods I am recovered enough to attend, and that is all that matters." A tall, anorexic looking man had come out from the surrounding crowd, surrounded by a small crowd of nervous-looking slaves.

Numair studied the man as he exchanged further pleasantries with the ambassadors. Privately, he thought the man looked half dead. Compared to the overfed, over polished appearance of most of the court, he looked like a starved servant. His rich robes only enhanced the greasy pallor of his skin.

The mage concentrated his magical vision, seeing the glint of the Gift around the stranger. The magical light seemed to twist under the man's skin, becoming almost grotesque and violent.

"I am pleased that you find me so interesting, Master Draper." The sick man drawled, bowing shallowly in his direction. Numair blinked and bowed in reply, hardly registering Piers' and Ilane's confusion at the name. The stranger smiled coldly. "I have been looking forward to speaking with you."

"I don't know who you are." The mage replied bluntly. Piers coughed politely and bowed again to the stranger.

"Master Salmalin, may I present Lord Gemmel, the Rancune of Carthak."

"'Rancune' is merely a title. I'm known to my friends as 'Kavan'." The Rancune smirked. "And, perhaps, to my enemies? Whatever you wish to call me, I imagine that you remember me now. Perhaps the Lord Piers and his fair lady would give us some privacy, to become reacquainted." He phrased the question as a blunt statement, not taking his eyes off the mage's face as the other Tortallans drifted away, glancing back with worried expressions. The slaves followed them, looking eager to get away as quickly as possible.

Numair's words were clipped with cold rage. "I ought to kill you where you stand."

Kavan smiled again and shook his head, dropping into one of the over-ornate chairs that were scattered around the hall. "I came to talk to you. You could at least pretend to be civilised for five minutes. You can't attack me in the middle of the court, any more than I could attack you. Call it a truce."

"A truce." Numair said flatly. Kavan nodded, the smirk never fading from his face. The taller mage gritted his teeth and sat opposite the Rancune. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I came to ask for your help." The smooth statement cut into Numair's rage like a knife. He blinked at the other man, astonished. Kavan's smile had vanished, his expression was almost insanely intent. "You're not a stupid man, much as I hate to admit it. You should think very carefully before replying."

"Why on earth should I do anything for you?"

"It's nothing difficult, I just need some information. Even you should be able to cope with that." Kavan continued blandly, his eyes burning eerily. "I'll give you a trade. You tell me what I need to know, and I'll…" He thought for a moment, then a slow smile spread across his face once again. His voice was amused as he finished the sentence. "I'll take that collar off Daine."

Numair kept his expression carefully blank. "What information?"

"Two questions: Ten days ago I sent some of my… soldiers to Tortall. They captured Daine. A few hours later you came to help her- knowing exactly where she was, and exactly what was wrong. During those hours she didn't move, didn't cast any magic, didn't mind-speak… so how did she speak to you?"

Numair watched the Yamani nobles milling around them, totally oblivious to what they assumed was a pleasant conversation in the barbarian northern language. His mind raced as he tried to decide what to say, what to do. His fingers itched to cast magic, to destroy this man. Kavan watched him carefully and started the second question.

"The other thing I want to know, is: after the Spidren incident, Lord Scul couldn't possess Daine's dreams for over a week. I don't know why, but Scul knows now. He said you cast some kind of protection on her, but he won't tell me what it is."

"They're your questions?" Numair felt bemused. "I thought you meant… fort defences, troops, thing like that. Important information."

"This is important!" Kavan hissed, leaning forward in his chair. "Two months ago I sold my soul to Scul. I am an agent of Chaos- my whole life is now centred around Scul, and on making people's lives as chaotic as possible. Day after day I spy on you and Daine. Night after night I report to Scul. It's driving me insane. It's killing me. I want to know what the protection spell is, so I can live again."

There was a short silence. The Yamani courtiers were gradually moving further away from the northerners, shocked at the rude display of emotions.

"I don't pity you." Numair's dark eyes were full of hate. "You deserve to die."

"For what?" Kavan's voice rose angrily, sick emotion bubbling in every phrase. "For being a spy? For being in league with Chaos? For being a murderer? Because…"

"Kavan." Daine said quietly, breaking the man's tirade. The Rancune looked up and smiled, the rapid mood-changes dancing in his eyes.

"Daine, my dear! I was just talking about you!" He declared enigmatically. "How long have you been hiding in the crowd?"

"Not long." She shot an apologetic look at Numair, uneasy at how furious he looked. Kavan's grin became syrupy sweet as she looked back at him. It faded slightly when he saw the determined set of her jaw. Her voice became calmer and more steady as she walked towards the Rancune.

"Kavan, if you say one more word to him…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "…you will be breaking our agreement. Scul will not be pleased with me, but he will blame _you._"

Kavan gaped at her, and then began to laugh. He leaned closer to her and whispered confidingly, "Are _you_ going to tell Numair the truth then, sweetheart? At least if I told him you could have pretended I was lying."

Daine ignored him, trying to force herself not to be scared of him. Her hands felt unnaturally cold when she twisted them together uneasily. "I will answer your questions, and then you will leave. Are you listening? Numair doesn't know what the protection spell is. I severed my spirit to warn him when you sent the Spidren. There's nothing else you need to talk to us about. _Go away_."

The Rancune sneered elegantly and stood up, swaying slightly before he caught his balance. "No-one can cast a spell without knowing what it is! And how could _you _sever your spirit? I don't believe it!"

"Believe what you like." The girl replied, relief in her voice now it looked like the man was leaving. Kavan grinned at her.

"I _will_ find out what the spell is." He hissed through his smile. "I think I might just make things a little more chaotic for you, until you decide to tell me."

Daine blinked at him, confused. Still smiling, Kavan reached out and gripped the edge of the slave-collar, his broken nails digging into her skin. For a second the metal became unbearably cold. The icy magic spread through her throat, mixing with the fear-cold until it was almost painful.

Then, with a dull clang, the collar fell to the floor in two halves. One of Kavan's slaves ran forward and picked it up as, laughing, he walked away.

Daine gasped, her hands flying to her throat. The neckline of this dress was just high enough to hide the necklace, but supposing it had been moved… supposing Numair was to see it… she felt for the chain, tucking it inside her dress until she was sure it was hidden.

Her neck felt ridiculously smooth without the band of metal around it. She didn't realise she was standing there, perfectly still with her hands wrapped around her throat, until Numair walked up to her.

"What did you say to him, to make him leave?" He asked. Daine shrugged.

"He didn't want to hear anything. He just wanted to talk to you." She said quietly, feeling slightly lost without the heavy ring of metal. Numair caught one of her frozen hands and kissed it.

"I wouldn't have believed anything he told me." He said.

"Maybe you should." She whispered forlornly.

Numair's reply remained unspoken when Ilane pushed her way through the crowd, smiling when she saw them.

"I saw Lord Gemmel leaving, and thought I'd come and find you." She blustered. "I know he can be such an _insulting _man, I don't know why the Carthaki chose him to be an ambassador, to be honest."

"Is _that_ what 'Rancune' means?" Numair asked, surprised. Ilane nodded, but Daine shook her head.

"The Rancune is like… the ambassador you send when you are angry with the country." She said, trying to remember one of the rare diplomacy lectures she'd heard in Carthak. "Someone who… someone who can take decisive action without having to check with the emperor. But also, someone who can be intimidating when they're being diplomatic. They're like the warning before you get sent the army."

"That's strange. He doesn't look very threatening." Ilane replied conversationally. Daine smiled suddenly and shook her head.

"Why would Ozorne send a Rancune _here_?" Numair mused.

"He was never sent. He disappeared about five months ago." The girl replied. "We all really hoped he'd died."

"He's halfway there, I'd say." He returned. Ilane tutted absently at the comment and began to lead the way to a table of drinks. As soon as she had disappeared into the crowd, Numair stopped and looked intently at Daine.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit… surprised to see him here." She raised a hand absently to her neck again, not meeting the mage's serious eyes. Numair sighed and tugged his nose, a habit when he was thinking.

"He'll come back." He said eventually. "He's a very strong mage, Daine. He won't just keel over and die."

"I know. But he isn't thinking clearly. He's possessed."

"And that's an advantage?"

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	22. Chapter 18: Wolves

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Chapter 18: Wolves

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The Wolf's eyes were the most unusual colour. Within the green irises were flecks of grey, and even tiny lines of amber that caught the bright lights of the throne room and seemed to glow. As if this wasn't disturbing enough, as soon as the two combatants had been formally presented to the court his cheerful expression disappeared, settling into cold, rugged lines that made him look even more wolf-like.

_No wonder everyone's scared to fight him. _Daine thought absently, trying to size him up while the court herald droned on about honour, strength and all things boring. The two fighters stood opposite each other on the edge of a large circle, a design tiled into the floor. Apparently, fights to prove honour were quite common in this court. The Wolf also seemed to be ignoring the dry speech- no matter how confident he had sounded when they first met, he was obviously taking no chances. They studied each other warily.

Outside the circle, ranks of nobles knelt on soft floor pallets, chattering excitedly over the herald. Laughter and snide remarks drifted towards Daine- in Yamani, but still irritatingly understandable. A group of young women to one side didn't join in the gaiety, casting worried looks in Daine's direction. No-one seemed worried for the Wolf.

"…and the advancement of the Yamani Islands!" The herald finished, raising his voice to be heard above the chatter. A look of irritation flashed across his face before he spoke again, almost yelling to try and regain the crowd's attention. "Veralidaine Sarrasri of Tortall! Do you understand and accept the rules of this challenge, agreeing to carry out this battle with honour and humility in His Majesty's presence?"

Daine glanced at the Herald, sweating tensely in the midst of the crowd. The mass of people had pushed him closer to the throne than he was used to, and he was obviously nervous. She fought a wild desire to laugh and nodded solemnly.

"So I do." She said clearly. The Herald bowed and turned to the Wolf, repeating the question in Yamani.

"So I do." The man replied, not taking his eyes from his opponent. The crowd immediately hushed, shocked whispers running from ear to ear. Behind the Herald, the Emperor laughed briefly.

"You do not need to forsake your own language to show your support for these barbarians, Ged Shurin." He rumbled in thickly accented common. Daine clenched her fist at the insult as laughter rippled around the room. "As long as you fight with honour, your support is meaningless. So do not speak it; fight and be done with it."

The Wolf bowed and turned back to the ring, his eyes glittering.

The Emperor waved a hand vaguely at the Herald.

The Herald clapped once, sharply, the sound echoing around the tiles in the silence. The short sound created a faint reply from the bronze gongs that surrounded the audience hall, a sweet low ringing that seemed completely out of place. The wolf and Daine tensed, waiting for the sound to die away, waiting to begin.

But the sound didn't disappear. The ringing grew, louder and shriller, more and more piercing in the hush of the crowd. The Herald blinked, staring at his hands in confusion.

The Emperor frowned, standing up in his throne. "What witchery is this?" He demanded, glaring at Daine accusingly. She gulped and shook her head, but the emperor's gaze had already moved on, studying the gongs. He said something else, his eyes narrowing, but whatever he said was drowned out by a sudden shrieking sound over the ringing.

Several people clapped their hands over their ears, wincing as the sound grew. It wasn't until the sound was teeth-achingly shrill that the light appeared- a great flash of pure white growing from the centre of the arena. The emperor gaped ashen-faced at the sight, sinking back into his throne.

Many of the courtiers dropped to the ground in fright at the light, hands still clamped to their heads, mouths open in inaudible wails of fright and pain. Slowly, a dark figure appeared in the centre of the light, the pure whiteness turning angry amber around it. It looked like a human silhouette, tall and powerful, with it's back to Daine. As it looked around she could see it's eyes- no other feature on it's face, just angrily burning green orbs.

It was terrifying, and at the same time... beautiful.

_This is no Chaos demon, _Daine thought, even through her paralyzing fear.

With light flaring and crackling around it, it glared around the hall. As it's gaze fell on people they collapsed as if their legs had no strength.

Ged gaped at the figure, every muscle locked into place to stop himself falling to the floor. The being's head turned to glance at him, and he collapsed to his knees, a look of reverence on his face.

"Master!" he whispered, bowing his head to the ground. The figure ignored this deference, instead turning around to search the room a second time. This time it glanced behind itself, and saw Daine. The light turned blood-red, washing through the bowing courtiers in a soundless concussion. Daine staggered a few steps backwards, before the shock knocked her down. The force of the blow pressed on her, paralysing her. The being bore down on her, it's green eyes flaming in furious ferocity.

"Traitor!"the word shrieked in the voice of the shrilling gongs, in the crackle of the light, in the pain of the concussion. Behind Daine several people shrieked, adding to the cacophony.

"What?" She screamed back at it, her voice dying in the noise. The silhouette's arm snaked out of the light and made a grab for her throat, stopping bare inches from the necklace.

"Traitor! You have betrayed the Gods!" The words echoed oddly, the word _Traitor_ ringing in her ears even after the other words had faded into the chimes. It reached out again as if to tear the necklace from her throat, then stopped, obviously unable to touch it. Hissing in rage, it spun around and hauled The Wolf to his feet.

"Ged Shurin, I call upon you!"

"Lord Hunter, I will do whatever you command," The man whispered, naked awe on his face. Several people in the crowd broke out in shocked exclamations at the name. The silhouette spun, placing the man in front of Daine.

"What do you wish me to do?" Ged asked more strongly.

The silhouette appeared to hesitate for a moment, then turned it's green glare on Daine once more.

"The girl is a traitor. We cannot interfere in the affairs of mortals, but you were going to fight her anyway..." It hesitated again, almost seeming to be arguing with itself, then the light flared red again. "_Kill her!_ Kill the agent of Chaos!"

Ged glanced at Daine, his face a reflection of the silhouette's anger. The light built behind him, blinding Daine as the silhouette disappeared.

She blinked, her eyes streaming, and found that she could move again. Whatever had been paralysing her had disappeared. Without waiting for her vision to return, remembering the cold fury in the Wolf's eyes, she willed herself to change.

Trying to struggle out of the dress with four paws, she couldn't avoid the Wolf's first blow. As blinded as he was, the kick wasn't as powerful as it might have been, and a move meant to cut her feet from under her simply made her stumble over her front paws.

She rolled aside, flinging the dress away with her teeth and climbing back onto her paws. She blinked the sunspots out of her eyes and looked up. The Wolf was charging towards her, following up on that first kick. He didn't seem surprised that she had turned into a wolf. _Probably thinks I'm some kind of demon,_ thought Daine, bounding to the side, forcing him to slow down. As he turned to follow her she sprang, launching herself onto his chest to try and unbalance him.

The Wolf twisted neatly to one side. Daine landed, having hit nothing but air, and spun around just as quickly. He let out a volley of kicks, forcing her to dodge instead of attacking.

_He's far too fast!_ Daine thought, feeling a sweep kick ruffle her fur as she avoided it. The crowd gasped behind her- too close behind her. _There's nowhere left to retreat to..._

In a flash, she realised what she'd have to do. Gritting her teeth, she turned slightly to the side, presenting him with a clear target of her shoulder. Blinded by the God-Rage, he missed the obvious trick and went for the target.

Hot pain flooded through her shoulder. Ignoring it, she sank her jaw into the man's ankle as he started to pull it way. He yelled at the crushing bite, trying to twist out of it.

_I'm not finished yet. _The girl thought grimly, and rolled towards him with the ankle still clamped in her teeth. Her shoulder screamed at her as she rolled over it, but the trick worked. He fell clumsily, forced to either take the fall or break his leg. Against Daine's hopes, he didn't hit his head or pass out from the pain. Instead, he kicked her with his other leg.

Give up! She thought frantically, and jumped onto his chest before he could get up. He landed another painful blow, pushing himself up with his other hand, but she had his throat held between her jaws. He froze, clearly undecided.

_Yield._ She thought, and then reached out with her thoughts, hoping the speaking spell was still working. _Numair_? _Tell him to yield._

She could vaguely hear a hushed conversation, then the Emperor's voice rang through the shocked silence. It only held a slight quaver.

"Ged Shurin, you have fought with honour. I advise you to yield." He cleared his throat. "Veralidaine Sarrasri, you have defended yourself with likewise honour, but you are placed under arrest until your betrayal has been explained to the court. I have heard of your questionable loyalties from various sources, and wish to know which is truthful. If you are found innocent you will gain the support of this country, for you have fought valiantly, if unexpectedly."

He held up a hand against the shocked murmuring and continued. "If you are found guilty you will be executed in the temple of Lord Hunter, for it is he who you have offended. Please release my warrior."

Daine relaxed her jaw, suddenly aware of the throbbing pain in her shoulder. She glanced at the hurt and stopped, shocked. The shifting darkness of chaos darkened her fur around her neck and down to her shoulders, where the gold of the collar had been before. Feeling sick, she stepped off the fallen warrior and looked up. The entire court stared at her, each face white with shock and fear.

She couldn't bear to look around for Numair. She was sure that now he'd know exactly what she'd done. She'd sold her soul to Chaos and betrayed the Gods. She'd lost the only chance his country had at salvation. She'd betrayed _him. _

He'd never forgive her.

And she was suddenly glad that wolves couldn't cry.


	23. Chapter 19: Rationale

A/N: I've been ill, which here means "stuck in my room with my computer and no college work", so here's another chapter. It's actually the next two chapters, but they might not read well... please give critique as I might have been too ill to pick up on mistakes:P

We're getting near the end now, you'll be pleased to hear...

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Chapter 19: Rationale

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"You have my sympathy." The Emperor said.

The room was small, cool and peaceful after the stuffy heat of the audience chamber. Instead of the flamboyant gold ornaments and crimson drapes, the walls were simple stained wood and decorative paper. Wide, airy windows opened onto an immaculate garden, filled with the voices of fountains and birds. Numair hardly heard, hardly saw, but jumped when the emperor spoke.

The man sat before a small table, gracefully drinking green tea. The elegant image was offset by the two enormous bodyguards, who sat one to either side of him. The herald who had called the mage in from the audience hall had melted silently back through the doorway while the emperor studied the mage curiously.

Strangely, with the tranquil surroundings, the emperor appeared to be more disturbed than he had been in the audience chamber. His hauteur and dispassion had disappeared, and his eyes were filled with the sympathy he offered. The mage stared at him, uncomprehending.

"She obviously means a lot to you."

"She did." Numair replied in a completely flat tone. The emperor leaned his head to one side, his eyes searching.

"And you did not know about...? No, I see you did not." He put the teacup down carefully, phrasing his next question carefully. His lilting common was more hesitant, almost apologetic. "The divine war with chaos is closely followed by our court. Without the Gods to bless our fields, we will starve. Without the Gods to bless our water, we will sicken. You understand why we take this treason so seriously?"

"I don't blame you."

"But... we understand the Gods in ways you bar- Tortallans cannot." The man's voice was earnest, compelling. "We know they can deceive, and that they are hard to disobey."

He looked up, as if expecting a response. None was forthcoming. He tried again, his language even more stilted.

"What I'm saying is: I want to help you. That is why you must tell me...If you know any reason why she-"

"There is no excuse for what she has done." Numair said, frozen rage on every word. He looked directly at the emperor for the first time. The man nearly drew back at the naked pain in his eyes. "She knew _exactly_ what she was doing. She has allied herself with Chaos. She has betrayed us all. _Why _she would do it isn't important. She doesn't deserve your help any more than... she deserved mine." His voice shook on this last, he swallowed and stood quietly again. The emperor watched him carefully.

"She has won your country our respect. She met all the demands we made of her with honour and strength. Do you know _why_ she did that?"

Numair blinked and took an involuntary step back. "Sire? I don't..."

"You came to my country asking for military help. Tradition laid down the path for you to take. _She_ walked it. Ten legions of my finest soldiers now prepare to sail to Tortall, to fight for you. Forty more await vessels. Emergency rations are being dispatched. I could go on."

The mage stared at him, open amazement on his face. The emperor leaned forward, his tone suddenly becoming darker. "All of these are things you, or your king, have required. The Yamani Isles are pleased to help, I assure you, but we don't understand where Veralidaine fits in.

"I have spoken to the other Tortallan ambassadors, read the letter your king sent me, and even to The Wolf. I spoke to them before the fight, as is custom, to assess the worth of one's challengers. They all give me favourable accounts of the girl- too favourable, in Ged's case." He allowed himself a hint of a smile. "But the facts are- she is from Galla and Carthak, not Tortall. She has spent maybe a month in your country in her entire life. She is not stronger, or smarter, or braver than any other of your Tortallan warriors. Given that, why would she decide to fight for Tortall?"

Numair stared at him, feeling the words choking him. The emperor steepled his elegant fingers and peered over the top expectantly.

"She didn't do it for...Tortall." He whispered, "She did it for me."

The man smiled and nodded slightly over his hands. "I thought so. There could have been no other explanation. This is why I want to know why she allied with Chaos."

He poured himself a second glass of tea, keeping his face carefully blank, watching the mage from the corner of his eye. "I think she might have done that for you, too."

Numair suddenly laughed, devoid of amusement. "She thought that she would be helping me by betraying the Gods? The only person she could possibly be helping is Ka..." he stopped abruptly, remembering the brief conversation he had held with the Rancune. _Great __Mithros, that__ must be what he was trying to tell me... _he thought, aghast.

And Daine had stopped him... because she didn't want anyone to know she was allied with Chaos. Because she was keeping a secret. And he, stupid as he was, trusted her, had refused to believe anything Kavan would have said, but...

_Perhaps you should._

She'd never told him Kavan was lying... he just hadn't believed him.

_Perhaps you should._

She'd _asked_ him to believe what The Rancune was saying, and he'd missed it.

_She'd tried to tell him. _

And the way they spoke, as if they'd seen each other recently... and Kavan was allied with Chaos, wasn't he?

It must have been him! Somehow, he had convinced her to ally herself with chaos...

But Kavan was trying to _escape_ the Chaos lords, wasn't he?

He would want them to be weaker, not to gain more supporters...

So why would he convince Daine to...?

"Gods..." he whispered.

The emperor looked up from where he'd been absentmindedly swirling tea around the tiny cup, giving the mage time to think. "Blasphemy, Master Salmalin?" He commented dryly. Numair ignored the jibe, the colour draining from his face.

"Where's Kavan?"

The emperor studied him coldly, then decided not to comment on the lack of propriety. It's difficult to berate a mage who looks that frightened. "Who?"

"Kavan! The...the Rancune?" The mage demanded. The emperor shrugged.

"I expect he's around, somewhere. There's nothing like a traitor to bring out the crowds." He dropped the sarcasm and leaned forward.

"Is my court in danger? You must tell me what's going on before I let you race off." He said earnestly. Numair ran his hands frustratedly through his hair.

"Kavan's been allied with Chaos for longer than she has- and he wants out. But he's a host, he can't just drop out, he's been possessed. Scul could always find him, read his mind. And he thinks it's killing him..."

The emperor placed the teacup down carefully and looked up, a crease appearing between his brows. "This is a serious accusation, but I don't see what it has to do with..."

"He spoke to me this afternoon, and told me all of this... and I didn't think it was strange that he was speaking so bluntly when Scul was inside his mind. But he _can't_ act against him when he's possessed, he can't fight him or even argue... I was so _stupid!__"_

"You mean the demon wasn't there anymore?" The emperor said, trying to catch up. To either side, the guards were very obviously listening, their eyes wide with curiosity.

"No! Because he was possessing _Daine! _I don't know how Kavan did it, but he somehow convinced her to act as a second host. And the demon can only possess one person's mind at a time... so he was free. But that's not why he wanted her to be a host... if the demon can only possess one person's mind at a time, it must draw all it's strength from that one person."

"So if he disavowed himself when it's possessing Daine, he wouldn't be a host anymore." The emperor murmured, his eyes still full of confusion. "But she must have agreed to be a host in the first place."

Numair shook his head in irritation. "I still don't know why she did it, but I know why Kavan made her do it... he can't simply betray Chaos- Scul would simply get revenge through his new host, and possess him again. That's what they've been doing to Daine.

No, he's going to try to wipe out Scul altogether. And to do that..." he drew a shaky breath, "...all he has to do is kill _her."_

The emperor held up a hand. "It won't be that easy. She's under heavy guard. He wouldn't be able to reach her, let alone kill her in the middle of..."

"Are you mad? _Think!_ He's a gods-cursed mage, he's insane, and he has nothing left to lose! You have a palace full of warriors who are _scared_ of magic!" Numair stopped himself and bowed shakily. "Begging your forgiveness, your majesty."

The man glared at him as the two bodyguards tensed to either side of him. There was a very still moment, then he lowered his hand. The guards relaxed slightly.

"She's still under arrest." He said warningly. Numair nodded, bowed and left the room.

888

Daine looked up at the sounds- yelling, the silken sound of swords being drawn from scabbards, strange hissing noises. They rang along the stone corridors to the small room where they'd locked her, the hissing building in volume.

She'd spent the last few hours trying to pull the damned necklace off with her good hand. The shoulder the Wolf had kicked was bruised and sore, and she could hardly move the hand from the makeshift sling one of the guards had made her. They had put the Wolf into a nearby room to calm him down, and for the first hour all she could hear was him screaming hate at the traitor.

For the first time in years, her core of icy-calm was completely shattered. She'd stopped the tears while she'd turned back and dressed in her clothes, while the healer examined her arm, while they escorted her to the cell, but now she couldn't stop them flowing down her face. Livid self-hatred possessed her until she felt like joining in the Wolf's curses and screaming at herself. She'd tried to rip the necklace off, but it was as well fastened as the collar had been. When she's fumbled for the clasp with her good hand, the tiny links of metal burned like acid.

And so, for hours, she fought the pain and tried to unfasten it. She thought she'd almost got it when the hissing noise began. She looked towards the door and froze, her hand dropping from her neck.

Greenish fire was crackling along the doorframe, melting the lock and hinges from the woodwork without touching the wood. The fire seemed to flow like thick liquid, great chunks of it dripping from the door and splashing in a shower of sparks to the floor, where it disappeared.

_Magic... _Daine thought, backing away from the fire. Slowly, so slowly, the door caved inwards and fell down, smouldering slightly as if it had finally caught alight. The hallway was filled with greasy smoke, as if it was ablaze, but the green flames didn't seem to be spreading beyond the door.

"Surprise!" Said Kavan cheerfully, stepping through the doorway and onto the pool of fire. Daine shuddered as the flames flowed back up his legs, absorbed back into his gift. "Are you pleased to see me, sweetheart?" He asked jovially.

"What... are you doing here?" She whispered, her hand flying back to the necklace. "I've done everything you wanted. Can't you just _leave me alone?"_

Kavan shook his head, a small smile playing across his grey skin. Almost absentmindedly, he caught up a handful of the fire and tossed it from hand to hand. "On the contrary, my dear, you _haven't_ done everything I wanted. You did everything _Scul_ wanted you to do, and I'm sure he's very proud of you. His lovely little host, who speaks with the Gods, and even has them appearing in the mortal realms, vying to kill her!" His eyes narrowed. "A shame they didn't succeed."

She backed further into the corner, confusion written across her eyes. "I don't understand. Did Scul tell you to...?"

"Scul be damned!" He spat on the floor, his face momentarily obscured by the smoke. He stepped closer, first still held in one hand. "Scul's _your_ problem now, sweetheart. I will be free!"

"You're insane." She said. "Gods, you've gone mad. Don't you know you can't escape from him?"

"I think I can." He smiled and moved the fire closer to her face, the light breaking the distance between them. "With your help, I can."

She swallowed and forced herself to look past the magic, into his sallow eyes. Anything, anything to take her mind away from that hissing fire, so close again to her eyes, so like the fire that had claimed Katryn... looking into the eyes of insanity was only slightly better.

"Tell me." She whispered, searching through her pockets with her free hand as he searched her eyes. "What can I do?"

He smiled slowly, running a tapering finger down her cheek. "Die."

Both moved at the same time: he to throw the handful of fire, she lashing out with the claw she had clasped in her hand. Both heard the screech as Scul, enraged, rampaged through their minds. Neither heard the running footsteps, the shouts of the surviving guards.

Both fell.

And the world went dark.

The guards charged through the doorway, backing away from the remaining fire cautiously as it flickered and died. They stared at the scene before them, their eyes embittered with the memory of the dead guards that had lined the passage, none of them trying to go any closer to the bodies than they had to. The barbarian mage followed them through the doorway, his face white but impassive, as if he had expected the worst.

He kneeled down next to the two mages who lay on the floor, almost in the other's embrace, so close had they fallen. The man lay in a spreading pool of blood, his throat cut. The thick red of death poured out of his veins and covered the sharp claw that had fallen out of the girl's hand.

The barbarian mage picked up the claw and threw it violently away, grimacing as if it hurt. Ignoring the bleeding corpse next to him, he gently picked up the girl, carefully, as if he was trying not to wake her.

"Is he dead?" One of the guards behind him asked in careful common, looking fearfully at the mage. Numair nodded silently. Quietly, but not too respectfully, the guards picked up the corpse and carried it from the room. One remained- one who had limped from the next cell, the god-hate disappearing from his eyes as he took in the scene. Numair ignored him, drawing Daine into his lap as he checked for signs of injury, hoping against hope that she was simply passed out. As he moved her there was a dull clink, and the necklace fell from around her throat. The metal chain was burned completely through, residue of liquid green fire dripping from the links.

As the chain broke away, a faint pulse began to beat in her throat. Numair kissed the pulse and stood up, holding her tightly in his arms, hardly aware that tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"Is she...alright?" Ged asked from the doorway, looking uneasily at the pool of blood. "Why won't she wake up?"

"I don't know. But she's alive! Thank the Gods, she's alive!"


	24. Chapter 20: Ged's God

888

Forest

Chapter 20:Ged's God

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Daine didn't wake up. For days she slept like the dead, hardly breathing, barely alive. She slept through the trial, as the Yamani people heard all the evidence against The Rancune. His slaves, freed, were more than happy to condemn their old master for his insanity, cruelty and treachery against the Yamani people and the Gods. The court case lasted for less than a morning, as no-one came forward to defend him against each claim.

His army was disbanded, most of them more than happy to ally with the true Yamani army. His bloodless corpse was thrown without ceremony into the sea, and was crushed to dust by its remorseless embrace. His belongings were burned to ashes, his wealth given to the crown.

She slept through his condemnation, through the priest's chanting as they banished his spirit to the Dark Lord's Hell. Kavan found the freedom he had been willing to kill for in the depths of eternal torment.

She slept through her own trial, as the same priests who damned the mage pardoned her. She would have been touched at how warmly Ilane and Piers spoke of her, and even blushed at how fervent Ged was in his relief that the Hunter God had lifted his rage against her from his eyes.

She never heard Numair's explanation of the events, given to the court in written notes as he refused to leave her side, and read out before the court. The court ladies, great lovers of stories, wept at his heartfelt, loving and logical defence and sent flowers and trinkets to the sleeping girl, dressing in their most dour robes to show their sympathy.

She slept, and never heard the stories of the Gods that were told by the priests. She didn't hear how the statue of the Lord Hunter had been seen crying tears of pity and sorrow while the burned sacrifices refused to turn to ashes in his temple. This, claimed the priests, was surely a sign of his regretting his harsh condemnation of her in the court. Besides, they said, hadn't she suffered enough?

The court agreed, the emperor declaring her innocent of all charges. By exposing the true traitor, he said, she had proved her worth a hundred times over. She had acted with honour, and was officially pardoned.

"And if she ever wakes up, we can tell her this." He added, seeing the expressions on some of the courtier's faces as they pitied the girl who (as they all privately believed) would not wake up, not after suffering such a powerful magical attack.

And so the court waited.

Piers and Ilane had welcomed the two Tortallans back into their house even before they were pardoned, summoning doctors and wise-women to examine the sleeping girl. When these failed to wake her up, they summoned priests, who had the same results.

Court ladies swept by the house unexpectedly, bringing useless herbal remedies they swore would work, and asking to see the "Little Wolf Girl". Ilane refused as politely as she knew how, but they obstinately remained in the house, chattering excitedly to each other in the garden and disturbing the entire household.

Eventually, Numair spoke to Piers, asking him to stop people coming in- it was a nice gesture, but useless. As he said- he doubted even the best healers in the world could do anything. Piers shook his head, but stopped the flow of visitors.

Numair was as nearly as socially oblivious as Daine, staying at her side, sleepless and watchful for any signs of life. He thought about trying to enter her mind magically and waking her up that way, but decided against it- even when the best healers in Tortall tried that, it often led to severe shock. And that was when the person's spirit was simply asleep.

He dreaded to think where Daine's spirit had gone. In desperation, he severed his own spirit several times and searched the spirit plain, but couldn't see her. She had gone somewhere else, where he couldn't follow her. Groaning, he opened his eyes.

"Any luck?"

Numair jumped and glared at Ged Shurin, who was sitting near the doorway. The Wolf spread his hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump. I thought you knew I was here."

"No." Numair croaked, pouring himself a glass of water. "How long have you been there?"

"About an hour." Ged hesitated, then folded his arms again and relaxed into the chair. "And what am I doing here, you ask?"

Numair drained the glass and glanced at Daine, still and oblivious, one hand folded under her head as if she were simply asleep. "I don't care. Get out."

"You know that Lord and Lady Mindelan are scared of you?" Ged asked quietly, his voice serious. Numair blinked at him. "And now I have your full attention, I wanted to talk to you about Lord Hunter."

Numair's expression darkened. "You mean that floating firework?"

"I sympathise with your plight, but insult my God again and you will suffer." Ged snapped, standing up. Numair bowed his head in weary apology, soothing the warrior slightly. The Wolf walked over to the bed and looked down at Daine, pity on his face.

"I told her she was beautiful, and she didn't believe me." He said quietly, "But I guess... she would believe you if you told her the moon was green."

Numair smiled slightly in self-mockery, his eyes warning the other man away. "She might, if she could hear me, but I can't find her. I've looked _everywhere_, and she just isn't there. The moon might very _well_ be green by the time she comes back." He stood up, wincing as his legs cramped after the long time of stillness. "What was this message about Lord Hunter?"

"I don't know. He came to me in my dream, and told me to come and speak to you, but I don't know..." Ged's voice suddenly tailed off. A soft golden light surrounded his body, completely different from the violent glare that had filled the hall before. Numair gaped as the shadow within the light changed again, becoming taller and more pronounced. Strange, branchlike horns grew from his head, and a drawn bow appeared in his right hand. Seeing the weapon, remembering the God's attitude from before, he pushed himself between Daine and the Hunter, holding out his arms to shield her.

"What good do you think that will do?" The God asked, amusement in his voice. Numair tentatively put his arms down and made a gesture of respect.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I won't let you kill her." He said, his voice a lot stronger than he felt. The god scratched his head in apparent perplexity, his features still shrouded by the glare of light.

"You think you could face down a God, puny mage who does not sleep? It's lucky for you that I did not come here to fight, isn't it? You're so...very...tired."

Numair caught himself yawning- not surprising, he hadn't really slept in days, but shook off the weariness. The God watched him, the amusement fading in his face as his features became more clear. Numair forced himself to look directly into the God's face.

"Why are you here, then?" He asked, not moving. The God made an awkward gesture and broke the stillness himself, sitting down cross-legged on the floor as if he wasn't used to being indoors.

"Sometimes... not often, mark you, but sometimes... Gods make mistakes." He growled, his voice sounding strangely henpecked. "I came to apologise, and to try and make up for my mistake.

"She found the true traitor, after all. I was angry when I found out what she had done, because I didn't understand why she had done it. So I reacted rather..."

"You tried to kill her." Numair said bluntly, not liking the God's reminding of him of his own emotions- they were so similar. "I was angry with her too, but I didn't try to..."

"I reacted rather extremely, yes." The God acquiesced, giving the mage a warning glance. "I also happen to know that she would be safer in the Dark God's realms than she is now. I do _think_ about such things, you know." He added grandly.

"You know where she is?" Numair gasped. The God stood up and glared at him, the universe dancing in his glowing eyes.

"_I AM A __**GOD**__!" _he roared. "How long is it going to take you to work that out?"

Numair gulped and bowed, trying to hide the impatience in his voice as he asked again, "So, where is she, your Lordship?"

The God ignored him sulkily and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, next to the sleeping girl. Despite his anger, his hand was surprisingly careful as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from her forehead, resting the tips of his fingers lightly on her temples. His eyes closed as if he read images from inside his own eyelids. When he opened his eyes and looked at Numair, his expression was worried.

"She's very sick. The demons are angry." He said slowly, not taking his hand from her forehead. "She won't be able to find the way back on her own. She's lost, and alone, and tired, and frightened." His eyes were sorrowful as he looked back down at Daine. "She's trapped in Chaos."

"Can't you bring her back?" Numair asked, and then wished he hadn't. The God's expression became even more unhappy.

"She won't recognise me. She won't trust me."

"But... aren't you her patron God, or something?" Numair replied, perplexed. Usually the Gods wouldn't take an interest in any but their own chosen few. The God shook his head impatiently, more like a deer than an irritated human.

"No. I'm her father." He stood up and brushed off his hands, seemingly unaware of the enormity of what he'd just said. "Right, there's nothing for it, I'll have to send you after her."

Numair was choking on the thousand and one questions he still hadn't asked when the God placed a velveteen hand on his head, sending a wave of overpowering sleep through him.

_He passed into the world of the dreamers. _

_And..._

_-We are running.- _

He opened his eyes into darkness, the true black of sleep and death, as comforting as it was frightening. He walked through the realm as strange shapes swirled around him, flying, running, singing...

_-The darkness has no air, but streams of night that glide past as we run. They tangle in our hair, dragging us back, but it doesn't matter. We aren't trying to reach anywhere, we're just running.-_

"You're the _runners?_" He asked them, stopping in his tracks. The grey forms swirled peacefully around his head, myriads of expressionless eyes watching him. As one, they nodded, then span away.

"Wait!"

They stopped, then sped back in the blink of an eye.

"Is this...the realm of chaos?" He asked hesitantly. Again, they nodded. He smiled grimly. "Is Daine here?"

_-We do not know.-_

"What do you mean by _that_?" He yelled as they sped away again.

_-We are searching for the traitor host. We have lost our eyes and are blind. She may be here, she may not. We are still searching.-_

_Eyes... they must mean the necklace. Or maybe the Rancune._ The mage thought, then checked himself. _It doesn't matter, as long as they haven't found her yet._

He picked a direction at random and began running along it, not surprised when his feet barely touched the ground. Years of magical training had given him greater understanding of the realms than his student- even so, he had no real way of searching. He trusted in the God's confidence that he could find her, trusted his instincts, and ran.

He ran for what seemed like years through a landscape that never changed. The smooth dark ground turned from stone to sand, each as black and featureless as the sky, only discernable by their texture. The sand turned to dust.

And suddenly... there she was. A shape, lit by a sun that wasn't there, lying on the ground. She looked like she was asleep. Hardly breathing, he ran up to her and grabbed her shoulder, trying to wake up this Daine when he couldn't reach the one in the mortal realms.

For a moment she didn't stir, then her eyes flew open. Recognition flooded her features as she looked up into his eyes, followed by horror.

"No, no! Get away from me!" She screamed, climbing to her feet and backing away. He raised his hands in what he hoped was a calming way and walked towards her shade.

"Daine, it's me!"

"No, you mustn't! It isn't fair!" She kept backing away, on the verge of running. "It's Kavan you want! He isn't here! Leave me alone!"

"Kavan's dead, Daine... you killed him, remember?" Numair said, perplexed. Daine swallowed and stopped, shaking her head.

"I didn't mean to... he was trying to kill me." She held out her hands in a gesture of helpless apology. "Why are you angry at me? He betrayed you! Why didn't you _do_ something?"

"I tried. I was too late. I'm so sorry..." He started, confused at her choice of words, but she was shaking her head again.

"I don't believe anything you say." She whispered, and ran away into the darkness. Numair cursed and ran after her.

"Wait! Who on earth do you think I am?" He yelled after her. She stopped after a few hundred metres, not at his yell, but as if she'd seen something else to run from. She tried to run back in the other direction, and then stopped uncertainly, looking from side to side.

Numair looked up at what else she was running from, and froze. The most horrible being he had ever seen was creeping rapidly towards them on a mixture of claws, paws and pincers, a horrible gurgling noise emerging from it's throat. Despite it's size and speed it was obviously unwell, stopping every few yard to shiver or recover it's breath.

Daine stood to one side, trying to take both Numair and Scul in without having to turn her head, her hands clenched at her sides. Terror filled her eyes- not for herself, Numair realised, but for something else...

"You want to know something funny, trespassing mage?" The creature asked Numair, slithering closer and ignoring the girl. "She doesn't know which one of us is which." It gurgled a death rattle of a laugh and inched closer. "It adds an element of...chaos to this showdown, don't you think?"

"You mean I look like you?" The mage asked in disgust. The creature's claws clicked loudly as it laughed again.

"No! We _both_ look like _you_." The creature shivered until it was half the size, a human reflection of the man in front of it. Numair took a step back, horror on his face.

"It's a disgusting form, don't you agree? So prohibitive." Scul grimaced at a hand as he flexed his fist. Seeing Numair's expression, he looked askance at Daine and smirked, the emotion warped on his new face. "But it's so strangely compelling, when used on the right people."

"You're dying. Your host is dead." Numair said bluntly, ignoring the jibe. "All I have to do is wait for you to die."

Scul shrugged and turned away. "Fair enough. You might want to know that I'm about as ill as your friend, here. In fact, you might say our condition's _exactly the same. _If you're prepared to let _me_ die like that, then you must be prepared to let her die with me. Good for you."

Numair clenched his fists, rage filling his heart. Without a warning, he struck out at his clone with a burst of magic- pure energy that lit a blinding streak in the darkness. Scul laughed as he dodged and responded with an identical attack, then blocked the counter.

Daine ran forward, forcing her legs to take her near the magic. The two identical Numairs battled with identical rage, identical expressions on their faces, with their words completely silent to her ears. Helplessly, she looked from one to the other. They were evenly matched. They would wipe each other out before she could decide which was which. Neither seemed to see her.

Scul's voice rang mockingly in her ears. _You'll have to make a choice sooner or later. I'm quite happy to let this carry on for all eternity. _

One of the Numairs charged up an attack. For the first time, Daine thought to look at the magic. The attacking mage's magic dripped from his hands like liquid, each drop oily, while the other battled with shining light. As the attack was released, she screwed up her courage and dove straight at one of the Numairs, knocking him to the ground and sending the attack awry. The man looked sorrowfully at her, the love in his eyes breaking her heart.

_What if I'm wrong?_

She hesitated, wanting him to say something, anything, to prove who he was.

"You betrayed me, Daine." He murmured obligingly, pain in his dark eyes. She pressed her hand against his throat and looked straight into his gaze.

"I was never loyal to you, Scul." She whispered, and crushed his windpipe. The man shifted under her as he died, shifting back into one of the many monster forms he had used in his chaotic existence and finally shuddering to death.

Crying with relief, she climbed off the corpse and staggered blindly into the darkness. The real Numair caught her and hugged her, letting her cry against his shoulder as she sobbed the horror of the last few months away.

"No wonder you didn't wake up, if that bastard was keeping you down here." He said angrily, half to himself, as she began to calm down. "I should have thought of that before."

"I'm sorry, I didn't tell you..."

"What could you have told me, sweet? I would have been too angry, I wouldn't have thought straight... I _didn't_ think straight, and it almost got you killed." He kissed the top of her head.

"But I tried... he said he'd kill so many people. He said he'd tell you..." she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. "I've killed so many people. More than you know about. I didn't want to be responsible for killing even more."

Numair glared at the dead demon and shrugged. "You don't have to explain anything to me. I should have trusted you from the beginning. I can't have made it any easier on you. Whatever they said to you to make you take that necklace, they're dead now. They can't kill anyone else."

"Wait..." she pulled further away, her eyes narrowing. "You've _forgiven_ me? Just like that?"

"_Just like that?"_ He mimicked, "Don't you know you've been asleep nearly two weeks?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "I kind of thought I was dead."

He smiled, drinking in the sight of her living, breathing, awake. "So many things I wanted to say to you... and they've all completely escaped my mind." He kissed her rapidly, almost expecting her to fade away. "You're not dead, you..."

"You talk too much," she whispered, and returned the kiss, pouring all her love and life into the embrace, gasping as he kissed her back just as passionately. The freezing cold of the realm was chased away by the fire pouring from his hands, from the kiss, until all that mattered was the other.

Numair eventually broke the kiss, captivated by her grey eyes as she gazed lovingly into his, her cheeks flushed, her voice breathless,

"How did you find me?"

He was deciding whether to tell her or kiss her again when the realm seemed to shimmer, becoming less solid under their feet as gold light surrounded them. Daine clung to Numair as the light exploded outwards, carrying them away from Chaos...

...and suddenly they were back in the guest room, the gold light dying around them. Numair found himself sitting beside the bed, his hands clasped in Daine's as she slipped into dreamless, natural sleep. The God stood next to the headboard, watching his daughter as she returned to the mortal realm. Abruptly he locked eyes with the mage and smiled.

"Thank you, mage." He rumbled, the glow beginning to fade away. Numair stood up, careful not to disturb Daine, and bowed.

"Thank you, Lord Hunter."

The god made an awkward gesture again, "Don't tell her about me, not yet. She wouldn't believe you."The God shrank back into a mortal. Ged blinked at the bowing mage.

"Eh? What did you say?" He muttered, holding a hand to his head as if it hurt. Numair grinned at him, then turned and kissed the sleeping girl's forehead.

"I said: she's back!"

Ged's eyes brightened perceptibly as he glanced at Daine, then caught sight of the warning expression on the other man's face. Almost absentmindedly he shrugged, a lazy smile appearing on his face.

"You'll have to get used to having me around, you know, I'm on the same ship as you are, going to Tortall. You can't play the grumpy, jealous, superior mage for _all_ the months it's going to take to get there, you know." His smile became slightly more serious. "And I promise I won't flirt with your lady too much."

"Just as long as you two don't decide to have a rematch." Numair returned quickly, relief mixing with exasperated amusement on his face. The two men left the room, leaving Daine to sleep.

"I could do with a drink." The Wolf muttered, absently shaking his head again. "My head's buzzing. Would you like a drink? Maybe you can tell me if I _really_ disappeared for half an hour back there."

"You wouldn't _believe_..."

"Ah, you'd be surprised how much I believe when there's a drink in front of me." The wolf grinned and bowed, mockingly. "Especially if you're buying."

"Dream on."

For the first time in weeks, laughter filled the house. Daine half-heard it in the fog of sleep, and smiled.

"Dream on," she heard her love say.

And for the first time in months, Daine... didn't.

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A/N: That's all, folks! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The sequel is called "Tundra", and should start being uploaded this week.

PLEASE review and give critique on this because I want to reformat it- tell me what's wrong with it so I can make it better!


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